UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


FACING  DEATH 


OR 


THE  HERO  OF  THE  VAUGIIAN  PIT 


A  TALE  OF  THE  COAL  MINUS 


BY  G.  A.  HENTY 

Author  of  "  With  Clive  in  India,"  *4  Under  Drake's  Flag," 

44  In  Freedom's  Cause,"  "  The  Young  Carthairfnian," 

«  For  the  Temple,"  "  By  Sheer  Pluck,"  «•  B  «t- 

nie  Prince  Charlie,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

HURST  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


HENTY  SERIES  FOR  BOYS. 


UNIFORM  WITH  THIS  VOLUME. 

BY  G.  A.  HENTY. 


Among1  Malay  Pirates. 
Bonnie  Prince  Charlie. 
Boy  Knight,  The. 
Bravest  of  the  Brave,  The. 
By  England's  Aid. 
By  Pike  and  Dyke. 
By  Right  of  Conquest. 
By  Sheer  Pluck. 
Captain  Bayley's  Heir. 
Cat  of  Bubastes,  The. 
Cornet  of  Horse,  The. 
Dragon  and  the  Raven. 
Facing  Death. 
Final  Reckoning,  A. 
For  Name  and  Fame. 
For  the  Temple. 
Friends,  Though  Divided. 
Golden  Canon/The. 
In  Freedom's  Cause. 
In  the  Reign  of  Terror. 
In  Times  of  Peril. 


Jack  Archer. 
Lion  of  St.  Mark,  The. 
Lion  of  the  North,  The. 
Lost  Heir,  The. 
Maori  and  Settler. 
One  of  the  28th. 
Orange  and  Green. 
Out  on  the  Pampas. 
St.  George  for  England. 
Sturdy  and  Strong. 
Through  the  Fray. 
True  to  the  Old  Flag. 
Under  Drake's  Flag. 
With  Clive  in  India. 
With  Lee  in  Virginia. 
With  Wolfe  in  Canada. 
Young  Buglers,  The. 
Young  Carthaginian,  The. 
Young  Colonists,  The. 
Young  Franc-Tireurs,  The. 
Young  Midshipman,  The. 


Price    Post-P*idt  jjc.   each,   or  any    three 
books  for  $1.00. 

HURST  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK. 


"P73 


CONTENTS. 

IAOT 

CHAPTER  I. 
Evil  Tidings f 

CHAPTER  II. 
Bull-dog 15 

CHAPTER   III. 
The  Resolution yt 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Vaughan  Pit 38 

CHAPTER  V. 
Setting  to  Work 48 

CHAPTER  VI. 
«  The  Old  Shaft." 53 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Friendship 63 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Progress 73 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Great  Strike 79 

CHAPTER  X. 
Hard  Times 96 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Attack  on  the  Engine-house ,     105 


Iv  CONTENTS. 

MM 

CHAPTER  XII. 
After  the  Strike II? 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  Heavy  Loss 124 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
The  Night-school 135 

CHAPTER  XV, 
The  Sewing-class 147 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  New  Life 157 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  Dog  Fight 168 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Stokebridge  Feast 176 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  Great  Riot 187 

CHAPTER  XX. 
The  Arm  of  the  Law 197 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
A  Knotty  Question 205 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
The  Solution 214 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
The  Explosion  at  the  Vaughan 228 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
In  Deadly  Peril 242 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
The  Imprisoned  Miners 246 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
A  Critical  Moment 961 


CONT&fiTS. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

267 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

283 

CHAPTER  XXIX, 
The  New  Manager 292 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Risen 299 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
Conclusion 309 


FACING  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EVIL  TIDINGS. 

A  ROW  of  brick-built  houses  with  slate  roofs,  at 
the  edge  of  a  large  mining  village  in  Staffordshire 
The  houses  are  dingy  and  colorless,  and  without 
relief  of  any  kind.  So  are  those  in  the  next  row, 
so  in  the  street  beyond,  and  throughout  the  whole 
village.  There  is  a  dreary  monotony  about  the 
place  ;  and  if  some  giant  could  come  and  pick  up  all 
the  rows  of  houses,  and  change  their  places  one 
with  another,  it  is  a  question  whether  the  men,  now 
away  at  work,  would  notice  any  difference  whatever 
until  they  entered  the  houses  standing  in  the  place 
of  those  which  they  had  left  in  the  morning.  There 
is  a  church,  and  a  vicarage  half  hidden  away  in  the 
trees  in  its  pretty  old-fashioned  garden ;  there  are 
two  or  three  small  red-bricked  dissenting  chapels, 
and  the  doctor's  house,  with  a  bright  brass  knocker 
and  plate  on  the  door.  There  are  no  other  buildings 

I 


8  FACING  DEATH. 

above  the  common  average  of  mining  villages ;  and 
it  needs  not  the  high  chimneys,  and  engine-houses 
with  winding  gear,  dotting  the  surrounding  country, 
to  notify  the  fact  that  Stokebridge  is  a  mining 
village. 

It  is  a  little  past  noon,  and  many  of  the  women 
come  to  their  doors  and  look  curiously  after  a  miner, 
who,  in  his  working  clothes,  and  black  with  coal- 
dust,  walks  rapidly  toward  his  house,  with  his  head 
bent  down,  and  his  thick  felt  hat  slouched  over  his 
eyes. 

"  It's  Bill  Haden ;  he  works  at  the  « Vaughan.' n 

"  What  brings  he  up  at  this  hour  ? " 

"  Summat  wrong,  I'll  be  bound." 

Bill  Haden  stopped  at  the  door  of  his  house  in 
the  row  first  spoken  of,  lifted  the  latch,  and  went  in. 
He  walked  along  a  narrow  passage  into  the  back 
room.  His  wife,  who  was  standing  at  the  washing- 
tub,  turned  round  with  a  surprised  exclamation,  and 
a  bull-dog  with  half  a  dozen  round  tumbling  puppies 
scrambled  out  of  a  basket  by  the  fire,  and  rushed  to 
greet  him. 

"  What  is  it,  Bill  ?  what's  brought  thee  home 
before  time  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Bill  Haden  did  not  answer,  but 
stooped,  and,  as  it  were  mechanically,  lifted  the  dog 
and  stroked  its  head. 

"There's  blood  on  thy  hands,  Bill.  What  be 
wrong  with  'ee  ? " 


EVIL  TIDINGS.  g 

"  It  bain't  none  of  mine,  lass,"  the  man  said  in  an 
Unsteady  voice.  "  It  be  Jack's.  He  be  gone." 

"Not  Jack  Simpson?" 

"  Aye,  Jack  Simpson ;  the  mate  I  ha'  worked  with 
ever  since  we  were  butties  together.  A  fall  just  came 
as  we  worked  side  by  side  in  the  stall,  and  it  broke 
his  neck,  and  he's  dead." 

The  woman  dropped  into  a  chair,  threw  her  apron 
over  her  head,  and  cried  aloud,  partly  at  the  loss  of 
her  husband's  mate,  partly  at  the  thought  of  the 
Harrow  escape  he  had  himself  had. 

"  Now,  lass,"  her  husband  said, "  there  be  no  time 
to  lose.  It  be  for  thee  to  go  and  break  it  to  his 
wife.  I  ha'  come  straight  on,  a  purpose.  I  thawt 
to  do  it,  but  I  feel  like  a  gal  myself,  and  it  had  best 
be  told  her  by  another  woman." 

Jane  Haden  took  her  apron  from  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Bill,  how  can  I  do  it,  and  she  ill,  and  with 
a  two-month  baby  ?  I  misdoubt  me  it  will  kill  her." 

"  Thou'st  got  to  do  it,"  Bill  said  doggedly,  "  and 
thou'd  best  be  quick  about  it ;  it  won't  be  many 
minutes  afore  they  bring  him  in." 

When  Bill  spoke  in  that  way  his  wife  knew,  as  he 
said,  that  she'd  got  to  do  it,  and  without  a  word 
she  rose  and  went  out,  while  her  husband  stood 
staring  into  the  fire,  and  still  patting  the  bull-dog  in 
his  arms.  A  tear  falling  on  his  hand  startled  him. 
He  dropped  the  dog  and  gave  it  a  kick,  passed  his 
sleeve  across  his  eyes,  and  said  angrily : 


10  fACING 

"  Blest  if  I  bain't  a  crying  like  a  gal.  Who'd  a 
thawt  it  ?  Well,  well,  poor  old  Jack  I  he  was  a  good 
mate  too  " — and  Bill  Haden  proceeded  to  light  his 
pipe.  Slowly  and  reluctantly  Mrs.  Haden  passed 
along  the  row.  The  sad  errand  on  which  she  was 
going  was  one  that  has  often  to  be  discharged  in  a 
large  colliery  village.  The  women  who  had  seen  Bill 
go  in  were  still  at  their  doors,  and  had  been  joined 
by  others.  The  news  that  he  had  come  in  at  this 
unusual  hour  had  passed  about  quickly,  and  there 
was  a  general  feeling  of  uneasiness  among  the 
women,  all  of  whom  had  husbands  or  relatives  below 
ground.  When,  therefore,  Jane  Haden  came  out  with 
signs  of  tears  on  her  cheeks,  her  neighbors  on  either 
side  at  once  assailed  her  with  questions. 

"  Jack  Simpson's  killed  by  a  fall,"  she  said,  "  and 
I  ha'  got  to  break  it  to  his  wife." 

Rapidly  the  news  spread  along  the  row,  from 
door  to  door,  and  from  group  to  group.  The  first 
feeling  was  everywhere  one  of  relief  that  it  was  not 
their  turn  this  time ;  then  there  was  a  chorus  of  pity 
for  the  widow.  "  It  will  go  hard  with  her,"  was  the 
general  verdict.  Then  the  little  groups  broke  up, 
and  went  back  to  their  work  of  getting  ready  for 
the  return  of  their  husbands  from  the  pit  at  two 
o'clock.  One  or  two  only,  of  those  most  intimate 
with  the  Simpsons,  followed  Jane  Haden  slowly 
down  the  street  to  the  door  of  their  house,  and  took 
up  a  position  a  short  distance  off,  talking  quietly  to> 


EVIL  TIDINGS,  U 

gether,  in  case  they  might  be  wanted,  and  with 
the  intention  of  going  in  after  the  news  was  broken, 
to  help  comfort  the  widow,  and  to  make  what 
preparations  were  needed  for  the  last  incoming  of 
the  late  master  of  the  house.  It  was  but  a 
minute  or  two  that  they  had  to  pause,  for  the 
door  opened  again,  and  Jane  Haden  beckoned 
them  to  come  in. 

It  had,  as  the  gossips  had  predicted,  gone  hard 
with  the  young  widow.  She  was  sitting  before  the 
fire  when  Jane  entered,  working,  and  rocking  the 
cradle  beside  with  her  foot.  At  the  sight  of  her 
visitor's  pale  face,  and  tear-stained  cheeks,  and 
quivering  lips,  she  had  dropped  her  work  and  stood 
up,  with  a  terrible  presentiment  of  evil — with  that 
dread  which  is  never  altogether  absent  from  the 
mind  of  a  collier's  wife.  She  did  not  speak,  but 
stood  with  wide-open  eyes  staring  at  her  visitor. 

"  Mary,  my  poor  girl,"  Mrs.  Haden  began. 

That  was  enough ;  the  whole  truth  burst  upon 
her. 

"  He  is  killed  ?  "  she  gasped. 

Mrs.  Haden  gave  no  answer  in  words,  but  her 
face  was  sufficient  as  she  made  a  step  forward  toward 
the  slight  figure  which  swayed  unsteadily  before  her. 
Mary  Simpson  made  no  sound  save  a  gasping  sob, 
her  hand  went  to  her  heart,  and  then  she  fell  in  a 
heap  on  the  ground,  before  Mrs.  Haden,  prepared 
as  she  was,  had  time  tQ  clasp  her. 


1 2  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

"  Thank  God,"  Jane  Haden  said,  as  she  went  to 
the  front  door  and  beckoned  the  others  in,  "  she 
has  fainted." 

"  Aye,  I  thawt  as  much,"  one  of  the  women  said, 
"  and  a  good  job  too.  It4s  always  best  so  till  he  is 
brought  home,  and  things  are  straightened  up." 

Between  them  Mary  Simpson  was  tenderly  lifted, 
and  carried  up-stairs  and  laid  on  the  bed  of  a 
lodger's  room  there.  The  cradle  was  brought  up 
and  put  beside  it,  and  then  Jane  Haden  took  her 
seat  by  the  bed,  one  woman  went  for  the  doctor, 
while  the  others  prepared  the  room  below.  In  a 
short  time  all  that  remained  of  Jack  Simpson  was 
borne  home  on  a  stretcher,  on  the  shoulders  of  six 
of  his  fellow-workmen,  and  laid  in  the  darkened 
room.  The  doctor  came  and  went  for  the  next  two 
days,  and  then  his  visits  ceased. 

It  had  gone  hard  with  Mary  Simpson.  She  had 
passed  from  one  long  fainting  fit  into  another,  until 
at  last  she  lay  as  quiet  as  did  Jack  below ;  and  the 
doctor,  murmuring  "  A  weak  heart,  poor  little 
woman ;  the  shock  was  too  much  for  her,"  took  his 
departure  for  the  last  time  from  the  house.  Then 
Jane  Haden,  who  had  not  left  her  friend's  side  ever 
since  she  was  carried  up-stairs,  wrapped  the  baby  in 
a  shawl  and  went  home,  a  neighbor  carrying  the 
cradle. 

When  Bill  Haden  returned  from  work  he  found 
the  room  done  up,  the  table  laid  for  tea,  and  th§ 


EVIL  TIDINGS.  13 

kettle  on  the  fire.  His  wife  was  sitting  by  it  with 
the  baby  on  her  lap. 

"  Well,  lass,"  he  said,  as  he  entered  the  room, 
"so  the  poor  gal's  gone.  I  heard  it  as  I  came 
along.  Thou'st's  had  a  hard  two  days  on  on't. 
Hulloal  what's  that?" 

"  It's  the  baby,  Bill,"  his  wife  said. 

"  What  hast  brought  un  here  for  ?  "  he  asked 
roughly. 

Jane  Haden  did  not  answer  directly,  but  standing 
in  front  of  her  husband,  removed  the  handkerchief 
which  covered  the  baby's  face  as  he  lay  on  her  arm. 

"  Look  at  him,  Bill ;  he's  something  like  Jack ; 
don't  thou  see  it  ? " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  he  said  gruffly.  "  Kids  don't 
take  after  their  father,  as  pups  do." 

"  I  can  see  the  likeness  quite  plain,  Bill.  Now.* 
she  went  on,  laying  her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  "  I 
want  to  keep  him.  We  ain't  got  none  of  our  own, 
Bill,  and  I  can't  abear  the  thought  of  his  going  to 
the  House." 

Bill  Haden  stood  irresolute. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  think  of  Jack's  kid  in  the 
House ;  still  he'll  be  a  heap  of  trouble — worse  nor 
a  dozen  pups,  and  no  chance  of  winning  a  prize 
with  him  nohow,  or  of  selling  him,  or  swopping  him 
if  his  points  don't  turn  out  right.  Still,  lass,  the 
trouble  will  be  thine,  and  by  the  time  he's  ten  he'll 
begin  to  earn  his  grub  in  the  pit  j  so  if  thy  mind  be 


14  FACING  DEATH. 

set  on't,  there's  'n  end  o'  the  matter.  Now  let's 
have  tea ;  I  ain't  had  a  meal  fit  for  a  dog  for  the 
last  two  days,  and  Juno  ain't  got  her  milk  regular." 
So  little  Jack  Simpson  became  a  member  of  the 
Haden  family,  and  his  father  and  mother  were  laid 
to  rest  in  the  burying-ground  on  the  hillside  above 
the  village. 


SULL-DOG.  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

BULL-DOG. 

A  CURIOUS  group  as  they  sit  staring  into  the  fire. 
Juno  and  Juno's  daughter  Bess,  brindles  both,  with 
their  underhanging  lower  jaws,  and  their  black  noses 
and  wrinkled  faces,  and  Jack  Simpson,  now  six  years 
old,  sitting  between  them,  as  grave  and  as  immov- 
able as  his  supporters.  One  dog  is  on  either  side 
of  him  and  his  arms  are  thrown  round  their  broad 
backs.  Mrs.  Haden  is  laying  the  table  for  her  hus- 
band's return  ;  she  glances  occasionally  at  the  quiet 
group  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  mutters  to  herself: 
"  I  never  did  see  such  a  child  in  all  my  born  days." 

Presently  a  sudden  and  simultaneous  pricking  of 
the  closely-cropped  ears  of  Junes  and  Bess  proclaim 
that  among  the  many  footsteps  outside  they  have 
detected  the  tread  of  their  master. 

Jack  accepts  the  intimation  and  struggles  up  to 
his  feet  just  as  Bill  Haden  lifts  the  latch  and  enters. 

"  It's  a  fine  day,  Bill,"  his  wife  said. 

"  Be  it  ? "  the  collier  replied  in  return.  "  I  took 
no  note  o't.  However  it  doant  rain,  and  that's  all 


1 6  FACING  DEATH. 

I  cares  for.  And  how's  the  dogs  ?  Did  you  give 
Juno  that  physic  ball  I  got  for  her  ?  " 

"  It's  no  manner  of  use,  Bill,  leaving  they  messes 
wi'  me.  I  ha'  tould  you  so  scores  o'  times.  She 
woant  take  it  from  me.  She  sets  her  jaws  that  fast 
that  horses  could  na  pull  'em  apart,  and  all  the 
while  I'm  trying  she  keeps  oop  a  growl  like  t'  organ 
at  the  church.  She's  a'  right  wi'  out  the  physic, 
and  well  nigh  pinned  Mrs.  Brice  when  she  came  in 
to-day  to  borrow  a  flat-iron.  She  was  that  frighted 
she  skirled  out  and  well  nigh  fainted  off.  I  had  to 
send  Jack  round  to  the  '  Chequers'  for  two  o'  gin 
before  she  came  around." 

"  Mrs.  Brice  is  a  fool  and  you'  re  another,"  Bill 
said.  "  Now,  ooman,  just  take  off  my  boots,  for  oim 
main  tired.  What  be  you  staring  at,  Jack  ?  Were 
you  nearly  pinning  Mother  Brice  too  ?  " 

"  I  doan't  pin  folk,  I  doan't,"  Jack  said  sturdily. 
"  I  kicks  'em,  I  do,  but  I  caught  hold  o'  Juno's  tail, 
and  held  on.  And  look  'ee  here,  dad,  I've  been  a 
thinking,  doan't  'ee  lift  I  oop  by  my  ears  no  more, 
not  yet.  They  are  boath  main  sore.  I  doan't  be- 
lieve neither  Juno  nor  Bess  would  stand  bein'  lifted 
oop  by  their  ears,  not  if  they  were  sore.  I  be  game 
enough,  I  be,  but  till  my  ears  be  well  you  must  try 
some  other  part.  I  expect  the  cheek  would  hurt 
just  as  bad,  so  you  can  try  that." 

"  I  do  wish,  Bill,  you  would  not  try  these  tricks 
on  the  boy.  He's  game  enough,  and  if  you'd  ha* 


BULL-DOG.  17 

seen  him  fighting  to-day  with  Mrs.  Jackson's  Bill, 
nigh  twice  as  big  as  himself,  you'd  ha'  said  so  too ; 
but  it  ain't  Christian-like  to  try  children  the  same 
way  as  pups,  and  really  his  ears  are  sore,  awful  sore. 
I  chanced  t'  notice  'em  when  I  washed  his  face  afore 
he  went  to  school,  and  they  be  main  bad,  I  tell  'ee." 

"  Coom  here,"  the  miner  said  to  Jack.  "  Aye, 
they  be  sore  surely ;  why  didn't  'ee  speak  afore, 
Jack?  I  doan'twantto  hurt  'ee,  lad." 

"  I  wa'n't  going  to  speak,"  Jack  said.  "  Mother 
found  it  out,  and  said  she'd  tell  'ee  o't ;  but  the  last 
two  nights  I  were  well  nigh  yelping  when  'ee  took 
me  up." 

"  You're  a  good  plucked  'un,  Jack,"  Bill  Haden 
said,  "  and  I  owt  not  t'  ha'  done  it,  but  I  didn't 
think  it  hurt  'ee,  leastways  not  more  nor  a  boy  owt 
to  be  hurt,  to  try  if  'ee  be  game !  " 

"  And  what's  you  and  t'  dogs  been  doing  to-day, 
Jack  ?  "  the  miner  asked,  as  he  began  at  his  dinner. 

"  We  went  for  a  walk,  dad,  after  school,  out  in 
the  lanes ;  we  saw  a  big  black  cat,  and  t'  dogs  chased 
her  into  a  tree,  then  we  got  't  a  pond,  and  d'ye 
know,  dad,  Bess  went  in  and  swam  about,  she  did  !  " 

"  She  did  ?  "  the  miner  said  sharply.  "  Coom  here, 
Bess  ?  "  and  leaving  his  meal,  he  began  anxiously  to 
examine  the  bull-dog's  eyes  and  listened  attentively 
to  her  breathing.  "  That  were  a  rum  start  for  a  bull 
too,  Jack.  She  doan't  seem  to  ha'  taken  no  harm, 
but  maybe  it  ain't  showed  itself.  Mother,  you  give 
I 


18  FACING  DEATH. 

her  some  hot  grub  t'  night.  Doan't  you  let  he* 
go  in  t'  water  again,  Jack.  What  on  airth  made 
her  tak  it  into  her  head  to  go  into  t'  water  noo,  I 
wonder?" 

"I  can't  help  it  if  she  wants  to,"  Jaqk  said; 
"she  doan't  mind  I,  not  when  she  doan't  want  to 
mind.  I  welted  her  t'other  day  when  she  wanted 
to  go  o'  a't  parson's  coo,  but  she  got  hold  o'  t' 
stick  and  pulled  it  out  o'  my  hand." 

"And  quite  raight  too,"  Bill  Haden  said ;  "don't 
'ee  try  to  welt  they  dogs,  or  I'll  welt  thee !" 

"I  doan't  care,"  the  child  said  sturdily :  "if  I 
goes  out  in  charge  o'they  dogs,theys  got  to  mind 
me,  and  how  can  I  make  'em  mind  me  if  I  doan't 
welt  'em?  What  would  'ee  say  to  I  if  Bess  had  got 
up  afore  the  court  for  pinning  t'  parson's  coo?" 

As  no  ready  reply  occurred  to  Bill  Haden  to 
this  question  he  returned  to  his  meal.  Juno  and 
Bess  watched  him  gravely  till  he  had  finished, and 
then,  having  each  received  a  lump  of  meat  put 
carefully  aside  for  them,  returned  to  the  fire. 
Jack,  curling  himself  up  beside  them,  lay  with  his 
head  on  Juno's  body  and  slept  till  Mrs.  Haden, 
having  cleared  the  table  and  washed  up  the 
things,  sent  him  out  to  play,  her  husband  having 
at  the  conclusion  of  his  meal  lighted  his  pipe  and 
strolled  over  to  the  "Chequers." 

Bill  Haden  had,  according  to  his  lights,  been  a 
good  father  to  the  child  of  his  old  mate  Simpson. 


BULL-DOG.  1$ 

He  L.caicd  him  just  as' if  he  had  been  his  own.  He 
spent  two  pence  a  day  less  in  beer  than  before,  and 
gave  his  wife  fourteen  pence,  in  addition  to  her 
weekly  money  for  household  expenses,  for  milk  for 
the  kid,  just  as  he  allowed  twopence  a  day  each  for 
bones  for  Juno  and  Bess.  He  also,  when  requested 
by  his  wife,  handed  over  what  sum  was  required  for 
clothing  and  shoes,  not  without  grumbling,  however, 
and  comparisons  as  to  the  wants  of  dogs  and  boys, 
eminently  unfavorable  to  the  latter.  The  weekly 
twopence  for  schooling  Mrs.  Haden  had  during  the 
year  that  Jack  had  been  at  school,  paid  out  of  her 
housekeeping  money,  knowing  that  the  expenses  of 
the  dogs  afforded  no  precedent  whatever  for  such  a 
charge. 

Bill  Haden  was,  however,  liberal  to  the  boy  in 
many  ways,  and  when  in  a  good  temper  would  often 
bestow  such  halfpence  as  he  might  have  in  his  pocket 
upon  him,  and  now  and  then  taking  him  with  him  into 
town,  returned  with  such  clothes  and  shoes  that 
"  mother  "  held  up  her  hands  at  the  extravagance. 

Among  his  young  companions  Jack  was  liked  but 
feared.  When  he  had  money  he  would  purchase 
bull's-eyes,  and  collecting  all  his  acquaintances,  dis- 
tribute them  among  them  ;  but  he  was  somewhat  se- 
date and  old-fashioned  in  his  ways,  from  his  close 
friendships  with  such  thoughtful  and  meditative 
animals  as  Juno  and  Bess,  and  when  his  wrath  was 
excited  he  was  terrible.  Never  uttering  a  cry,  how-" 


20  FACING 

ever  much  hurt,  he  would  fight  with  an  obstinacy 
and  determination  which  generally  ended  by  giving 
him  the  victory,  for  if  he  once  got  hold  of  an  an- 
tagonist's hair — pinning  coming  to  him  naturally,  no 
amount  of  blows  or  ill-treatment  could  force  him  to 
leave  go  until  his  agonized  opponent  confessed 
himself  vanquished. 

It  was  not  often,  however,  that  Jack  came  in  con- 
tact with  the  children  of  his  own  age.  His  duties  as 
guardian  of  the  "  dorgs  "  absorbed  the  greater  part 
of  his  time,  and  as  one  or  both  of  these  animals 
generally  accompanied  him  when  he  went  beyond 
the  door,  few  cared  about  having  anything  to  say 
to  him  when  so  attended ;  for  the  guardianship  was 
by  no  means  entirely  on  his  side,  and  however  ex- 
cellent their  qualities  and  pure  their  breed,  neither 
Juno  nor  Bess  were  animals  with  whom  strangers 
would  have  ventured  upon  familiarity. 

Jack's  reports  to  his  "  dad  "  of  Bess'  inclination 
to  attack  t'  parson's  coo  was  not  without  effect,  al- 
though Bill  Haden  had  made  no  remark  at  the  time. 
That  night,  however,  he  observed  to  his  wife  :  "  I've 
been  a  thinking  it  over,  Jane,  and  I  be  come  to  the 
opinion  that  it's  better  t'  boy  should  not  go  out  any 
more  \vi'  t'  dorgs~.  Let  'em  bide  at  home,  I'll  take 
'em  oot  when  they  need  it.  If  Bess  takes  it  into 
her  head  to  pin  a  coo  there  might  be  trouble,  an'  I 
doan't  want  trouble.  Her  last  litter  o'  pups  brought 
me  a  ten-pun  note,  and  if  they  had  her  oop  at  'a 


BULL-DOG.  21 

court  and  swore  her  life  away  as  a  savage  brute, 
which  she  ain't  no  way,  it  would  pretty  nigh  break 
my  heart." 

The  execution  of  this,  as  of  many  other  good  in- 
tentions, however,  was  postponed  until  an  event 
happened  which  led  to  Jack's  being  definitely  re- 
lieved of  the  care  of  his  canine  friends. 

Two  years  had  passed,  when  one  morning  Jack 
was  calmly  strolling  along  the  road  accompanied  by 
Juno  and  Bess.  A  gig  came  rapidly  along  contain- 
ing two  young  bagmen,  as  commercial  travelers 
were  still  called  in  Stokebridge.  The  driver,  seeing 
a  child  with  two  dogs,  conceived  that  this  was  a 
favorable  opportunity  for  a  display  of  that  sense  of 
playful  humor  whose  point  lies  in  the  infliction  of 
pain  on  others,  without  any  danger  of  personal  con- 
sequences to  the  inflictor. 

With  a  sharp  sweep  he  brought  down  his  whip 
across  Jack's  back,  managing  to  include  Bess  in  the 
stroke. 

Jack  set  up  a  shout  of  mingled  pain  and  indigna- 
tion, and  stooping  for  a  stone,  hurled  it  after  the 
man  who  had  struck  him.  Bess'  response  to  the 
assault  upon  her  was  silent,  but  as  prompt  and  far 
more  effectual.  With  two  springs  she  was  beside 
the  horse,  and  leaping  up  caught  it  by  the  nostrils 
and  dragged  it  to  the  ground. 

Juno  at  once  joined  in  the  fray,  and  made  desper- 
ate attempts  to  climb  into  the  gig  and  seize  its  in* 


22  FACING  DEATH. 

mates,  who  had  nearly  been  thrown  out  as  the  horse 
fell. 

Recovering  himself,  the  driver,  pale  with  terror, 
clubbed  his  whip,  and  struck  at  Juno  with  the  butt- 
end. 

"Don't  'ee  hit  her,"  Jack  cried  as  he  arrived  on 
the  spot  ;  "  if  thou  dost  she'll  tear  'ee  limb  from 
limb." 

"Call  the  brute  off,  you  little  rascal,"  cried  the 
other,  "  it's  killing  the  horse." 

"  Thou'd  best  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  thy  head," 
the  child  said  coolly,  "  or  it  will  be  bad  for  'ee. 
What  did  'ee  hit  I  and  Bess  for  ?•  It  would  serve 
'ee  roight  if  she  had  pinned  'ee  instead  o'  t' 
horse." 

"  Call  them  off,"  the  fellow  shouted  as  Juno's 
teeth  met  in  close  proximity  to  his  leg. 

"  It  be  all  very  well  to  say  call  'em  orf,"  Jack 
said,  "  but  they  doan't  moind  I  much.  Have  'ee 
got  a  strap  ? " 

The  man  hastily  threw  down  a  strap,  and  this 
Jack  passed  through  Juno's  collar,  she  being  too 
absorbed  in  her  efforts  to  climb  into  the  gig  to  heed 
what  the  child  was  doing  ;  then  he  buckled  it  to 
the  wheel. 

"  Noo,"  he  said,  "ye  can  light  down  t'other  side. 
She  caan't  reach  'ee  there." 

The  young  men  leaped  down,  and  ran  to  the  head 
pf  the  horse ;  the  poor  brute'  was  making  frantic 


BULL-DOG.  |J 

efforts  to  rise,  but  the  bull-dog  held  him  down  with 
her  whole  might. 

Jack  shouted  and  pulled,  but  in  vain ;  Bess  paid 
no  attention  to  his  voice. 

"  Can  you  bite  his  tail  ?  "  one  of  the  frightened 
men  said ;  "  I've  heard  that  is  good." 

"  Boite  her  tail  I "  Jack  said  in  contempt ;  M  doan't 
yer  see  she's  a  full-bred  un ;  ye  moight  boite  her 
tail  off,  and  she  would  care  nowt  about  "t  I've  got 
summat  here  that  may  do." 

He  drew  out  a  twisted  paper  from  his  pocket. 

"  This  is  snuff,"  he  s'aid  ;  "  if  owt  will  make  her 
loose,  this  will.  Now,  one  o'  yer  take  holt  by  her 
collar  on  each  side,  and  hoult  tight,  yer  know,  or 
she'll  pin  ye  when  she  leaves  go  o*  the  horse. 
Then  when  she  sneezes  you  pull  her  orf,  and  hoult 
fast." 

The  fear  of  the  men  that  the  horse  would  be 
killed  overpowered  their  dread  of  the  dog,  and  each 
took  a  firm  grip  upon  its  collar.  Then  Jack  placed 
a  large  pinch  of  snuff  to  its  nostrils.  A  minute 
later  it  took  effect,  the  iron  jaws  unclosed  with  a 
snap,  and  in  an  instant  Bess  was  snatched  away 
from  the  horse,  which,  delivered  from  its  terrible 
foe,  sank  back  groaning  on  the  road.  Bess  made 
the  most  furious  attempts  to  free  herself  from  hei 
captors,  but  in  vain,  and  Juno  strained  desperately 
at  the  strap  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  her  off* 
spring. 


24  FACING 

n  Ha'  ye  got  another  strap  ?  "  Jack  asked. 

"  There's  a  chain  in  the  box  under  the  seat.1* 

Jack  with  some  difficulty  and  an  amount  of  delib- 
eration for  which  the  men  could  gladly  have  slain 
him,  climbed  up  into  the  gig,  and  presently  came 
back  with  the  chain. 

"  Noo  tak'  her  round  to  t'  other  side  o*  gig,"  he 
said ;  "we'll  fasten  her  just  as  Juno  is." 

When  Bess  was  securely  chained  to  the  wheel  the 
men  ran  to  raise  the  horse,  who  lay  with  its  head  in 
a  pool  of  blood. 

"  There's  a  pond  in  yon  field,"  Jack  said,  "  if  'ee 
wants  water." 

After  Bess  was  secured  Jack  had  slipped  round 
to  Juno,  and  kept  his  hand  upon  the  buckle  in  readi- 
ness to  loose  her  should  any  attempt  be  made  upon 
his  personal  safety.  The  men,  however,  were  for 
the  moment  too  scared  to  think  of  him.  It  was 
some  time  before  the  horse  was  got  on  to  its  legs, 
with  a  wet  cloth  wrapped  round  its  bleeding  wound. 
Fortunately  Bess'  grip  had  included  the  bit-strap  as 
well  as  the  nostrils,  and  this  had  somewhat  lessened 
the  serious  nature  of  the  hurt. 

Jack  had  by  this  time  pacified  the  dogs,  and  when 
the  men  looked  around,  after  getting  the  horse  on 
to  its  legs,  they  were  alarmed  to  see  him  standing 
by  quietly  holding  the  dogs  by  a  strap  passing 
through  their  collar. 

"  Doan't  'ee  try  to  get  into  that  ere  cart,"  he  said ; 


BULL-DOG,  «S 

"  you've  got  to  go  wi'  me  back  to  Stokebridge  to 
t'  lock-oop  for  hitting  I  and  Bess.  Now  do  you 
walk  quietly  back  and  lead  t'  horse,  and  oi'll  walk 
beside  'ee,  and  if  thou  mov'st,  or  tries  to  get  away, 
oi'll  slip  t'  dogs,  you  see  if  I  doan't." 

"  You  little  villain,"  began  one  of  the  men  furiously, 
but  a  deep  growl  from  Bess  in  reply  to  the  angry 
tone  at  once  silenced  him ;  and  burning  with  rage 
they  turned  the  horse's  head  back  toward  the  village 
and  walked  on,  accompanied  by  Jack  and  his  dogs 
on  guard. 

The  arrival  of  this  procession  created  much  excite- 
ment, and  a  crowd  of  women  and  children  soon 
gathered.  Jack,  however,  serenely  indifferent  to 
questions  and  shouts,  proceeded  coolly  on  his  way 
until  he  arrived  at  the  residence  of  the  local  con- 
stable, who,  hearing  the  din,  appeared  at  his  door. 

"  Maister  Johnson,"  the  child  says,  "  I  give  them 
chaps  in  charge  for  'saulting  I  and  Bess." 

"  And  we  give  this  little  ruffian  in  charge,"  shouted 
the  men,  secure  that,  in  face  of  the  constable  and 
crowd,  Jack  could  not  loose  his  terrible  bull-dogs, 
"  for  setting  his  dogs  at  us,  to  the  risk  of  our  lives 
and  the  injury  of  our  horse,  which  is  so  much  hurt 
that  we  believe  it  will  have  to  be  killed." 

Just  at  this  moment  Bill  Haden — who  had  re- 
turned from  work  at  the  moment  that  a  boy  running 
in  reported  that  there  was  a  row,  that  a  horse  was 
covered  wi'  blood,  and  two  chaps  all  bluidy  over  t' 


t6  FACING  DEATH. 

hands  and  clothes,  were  agoing  along  wi*  Jack  and  f 
dorgs  oop  street  to  lock-oop — arrived  upon  the  spot 

"  What's  oop,  lad  ?  "  he  asked  as  he  came  up. 

"  They  chaps  hit  I  and  Bess,  dad,  and  Bess  pinned 
t5  horse,  and  Juno  would  ha*  pinned  'em  boath 
hadn't  I  strapped  she  oop,  and  then  we  got  Bess 
orf,  and  I  brought  'em  back  to  t'  lock-oop." 

«  How  dar  'ee  hit  my  lad  ?  "  Bill  Haden  said 
angrily,  stepping  forward  threateningly. 

"  Look  oot,  dad,  or  t'  dogs  will  be  at  'em  again," 
Jack  shouted. 

Bill  seized  the  strap  from  the  child's  hand,  and 
with  a  stern  word  silenced  the  dogs. 

"  Well,"  the  constable  said,  "  I  can't  do  nowt  but 
bring  both  parties  afore  Mr.  Brook  i'  the  morning. 
I  suppose  I  needn't  lock  'ee  all  oop.  Bill,  will  you 
bind  yourself  to  produce  Jack  Simpson  t'morrow  ?  " 

"Aye,"  said  Bill,  "oi'll  produce  him,  and  he'll 
produce  hisself,  I'm  thinking ;  seems  to  me  as  Jack 
be  able  to  take's  own  part." 

This  sally  was  received  with  laughter  and  ap- 
plause, for  local  feeling  was  very  strong  in  Stoke- 
bridge,  and  a  storm  of  cheers  and  rough  chAff  were 
poured  upon  the  bagmen  for  having  been  brought 
in  prisoners  by  a  child. 

"  Thee'd  best  get  away  to  th*  inn,"  the  constable 
said,  "  else  they'll  be  a  stoaning  thee  next.  There 
be  only  two  on  us  here,  and  if  they  takes  to  t 
we  shan't  be  able  to  do  much." 


BULL-DOG,  VI 

^  the  men,  leading  their  horse,  w*nt  off  to  the 
inn,  groaned  and  hooted  at  by  the  crowd  on  the  way. 
On  their  arrival  a  messenger  wa&  at  once  sent  off 
for  a  veterinary  surgeon  who  resided  some  four  miles 
away. 

On  the  following  morning  the  parties  to  the 
quarrel,  the  two  bagmen  and  Cie  injured  horse  on 
the  one  hand,  and  Jack  Simnson  with  the  two  bull- 
dogs under  charge  of  Bill  Haden  on  the  other,  ap- 
peared before  Mr.  Brook,  owner  of  the  Vaughan  pit 
and  a  county  magistrate. 

Jack  first  gave  his  account  of  the  transaction, 
clearly  and  with  much  decision. 

"  I  war  a  walking  along  quiet  wi't' dogs,"  he  said, 
"  when  I  hears  a  cart  a  coming  from  Stokebridge. 
I  looks  around  and  seed  they  two  chaps,  but  didn't 
mind  no  further  about  it  till  as  they  came  oop  that 
sandy-haired  chap  as  was  a  driving  lets  me  and  Bess 
ha*  one  which  made  me  joomp,  I  can  tell  'ee.  Bess 
she  pinned  the  horse  and  Juno  she  tried  to  get  into 
t'  cart  at  'em.  They  were  joost  frighted,  they  hollers 
and  yawps,  and  looks  as  white  as  may  be.  I  fastens 
Juno  oop  wi'  a  strap  and  they  houlds  Bess  whve  I 
put  some  snoof  t'  her  nose." 

"  Put  what  ?  "  Mr.  Brook  asked. 

"  Joost  a  pinch  of  snoof,  sir.  I  heard  feyther  say 
as  snoof  would  make  dogs  loose,  and  so  I  bought  a 
haporth  and  carried  it  in  my  pocket,  for  th'  dogs 
don't  moind  oi  when  they  are  put  oot.  And  theo 


2$  FACING  £>EATtt. 

they  gets  horse  oop  and  I  makes  'em  come  back  to 
t'  lock-oop,  but  Maister  Johnson,"  he  said,  looking 
reproachfully  at  the  constable,  "  wouldn't  lock  'em 
oop  as  I  wanted  him." 

There  was  some  laughter  among  the  audience, 
and  even  the  magistrate  smiled.  The  young  men 
then  gave  their  story.  They  denied  point  blank 
that  either  of  them  had  struck  Jack,  and  described 
him  as  having  set  his  dog  purposely  on  the  horse. 
Jack  had  loudly  contradicted  them,  shouting  "  That's 
a  lee;"  but  had  been  ordered  to  silence.  Then 
drawing  back  he  slipped  off  his  jacket  and  shirt,  and 
when  the  evidence  was  closed  he  marched  forward 
up  to  the  magistrate  bare  to  the  waist. 

"  Look  at  moi  back,"  he  said ;  "  that  'ull  speak 
for  itself." 

It  did ;  there  was  a  red  weal  across  the  shoulder, 
and  an  angry  niss  ran  through  the  court  at  the 
prisoners,  which  was  with  considerable  difficulty 
suppressed. 

"  After  what  I  have  seen,"  Mr.  Brook  said,  "  there 
is  no  doubt  whatever  in  my  mind  that  the  version 
given  by  this  child  is  the  correct  one  and  that  you 
committed  a  cowardly  and  unprovoked  assault  upon 
him.  For  this  you,"  he  said  to  the  man  who  had 
driven  the  horse,  "  are  fined  ^5  or  a  month's  im- 
prisonment. It  is  a  good  thing  that  cowardly  fel- 
lows like  you  should  be  punished  occasionally,  and 
had  it  not  been  that  your  horse  had  been  severely 


BULL-DOG.  29 

injured  I  should  have  committed  you  to  prison  with- 
out option  of  a  fine.  Against  you,"  he  said  to  the 
other,  "  there  is  no  evidence  of  assault.  The  charge 
against  the  child  is  dismissed,  but  it  is  for  the 
father  to  consider  whether  he  will  prosecute  you  for 
perjury.  At  the  same  time  I  think  that  dogs  of 
this  powerful  and  ferocious  kind  ought  not  to  be  al- 
lowed to  go  out  under  the  charge  of  a  child  like  this." 

The  man  paid  the  fine  ;  but  so  great  was  the  in- 
dignation of  the  crowd  that  the  constable  had  to 
escort  them  to  the  railway  station  ;  in  spite  of  this 
they  were  so  pelted  and  hustled  on  the  way  that 
they  were  miserable  figures  indeed  when  they  ar- 
rived there. 

And  so  Jack  was  released  from  all  charge  of  the 
"  dorgs,"  and  benefited  by  the  change.  New  friend- 
ships for  children  of  his  own  age  took  the  place  of 
that  for  the  dogs,  and  he  soon  took  part  in  their 
games,  and  from  the  energy  and  violence  with 
which,  when  once  excited,  he  threw  himself  into 
them,  became  quite  a  popular  leader.  Mrs.  Haden 
rejoiced  over  the  change ;  for  he  was  now  far  more 
lively  and  more  like  other  children  than  he  had 
been,  although  still  generally  silent  except  when  ad- 
dressed by  her  and  drawn  into  talk.  He  was  as 
fond  as  ever  of  the  dogs,  but  that  fondness  was  now 
a  part  only  instead  of  the  dominating  passion  of  his 
existence.  And  so  months  after  months  went  on 
and  no  event  of  importance  occurred  to  alter  th^ 
current  of  Jack  Simpson's  life. 


30  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    RESOLUTION. 

AN  ARTIST  sitting  in  the  shade  under  a  tree,  paint- 
ing a  bit  of  rustic  gate  and  a  lane  bright  with  many 
honeysuckles.  Presently  he  is  conscious  of  a  move- 
ment behind  him,  and  looking  round,  sees  a  sturdily 
built  boy  of  some  ten  years  of  age,  with  an  old  bull- 
dog lying  at  his  feet,  and  another  standing  by  his 
side,  watching  him. 

"  Well,  lad,  what  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  Nowt  1  "  said  the  boy  promptly. 

"  I  mean,"  the  artist  said  with  a  smile,  "  have 
you  anything  to  do?  if  not,  I  will  give  you  sixpence 
to  sit  still  on  that  gate  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  I 
want  a  figure." 

The  boy  nodded,  took  his  seat  without  a  word, 
and  remained  perfectly  quiet  while  the  artist 
sketched  him  in. 

"  That  will  do  for  the  present,"  the  artist  said. 
"  You  can  come  and  sit  down  here  and  look  at  me 
at  work  if  you  like ;  but  if  you  have  nothing  to  do 
for  an  hour,  don't  go  away,  as  I  shall  want  you  again 
presently.  Here  is  the  sixpence ;  you  will  have  ai> 


THE  RESOLUTION*  31 

ether  if  you'll  wait.  What's  your  name  ?  n  he  went 
on,  as  the  boy  threw  himself  down  on  the  grass, 
with  his  head  propped  up  on  his  elbows. 

"  Bull-dog,"  the  lad  said  promptly ;  and  then 
coloring  up,  added,  "  at  least  they  call  me  Bull-dog, 
but  my  right  name  be  Jack  Simpson." 

"  And  why  do  they  call  you  Bull-dog,  Jack  ?  " 

The  artist  had  a  sympathetic  voice  and  spoke  in 
tones  of  interest,  and  the  lad  answered  frankly : 

"  Mother — that  is,  my  real  mother — she  died 
when  I  were  a  little  kid,  and  Juno  here,  she  had 
pups  at  the  time — not  that  one,  she's  Flora,  three 
years  old  she  be — and  they  used  to  pretend  she 
suckled  me.  It  bain't  likely,  be  it  ? "  he  asked,  as 
if  after  all  he  was  not  quite  sure  about  it  himself. 
"  Schoolmaster  says  as  h:w  it's  writ  that  there  was 
once  two  little  rum'uns,  suckled  by  a  wolf,  but  he 
can't  say  for  sure  that  it's  true.  Mother  says  it's  all 
a  lie,  she  fed  me  from  the  bottle.  But  they  called 
me  Bull-dog  from  that,  and  because  Juno  and  me 
always  went  about  together ;  and  now  they  call  me 
so  because,"  and  he  laughed,  "  I  take  a  good  lot  of 
licking  before  I  gives  in." 

"  You've  been  to  school,  I  suppose,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  had  five  years  schooling,"  the  boy 
said  carelessly. 

"  And  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  liked  it  well  enough ;  I  learned  pretty  easy, 
and  so  'scaped  many  hidings.  Dad  says  it  was  cos 


3*  FACIKG  DEATH. 

my  mother  were  a  schoolmaster's  daughter  afore 
she  married  my  father,  and  so  learning's  in  the 
blood,  and  conies  natural.  But  I'm  done  with 
school  now,  and  am  going  down  the  pit  next  week." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  there  ?  You  are  too 
young  for  work." 

"Oh,  I  shan't  have  no  work  to  <io  in  t'  pit,  not 
hard  work — just  to  open  and  shut  a  door  when  the 
tubs  go  through." 

"  You  mean  the  coal-wagons  ?  " 

"  Aye,  the  tubs,"  the  boy  said.  "  Then  in  a  year 
or  two  I  shall  get  to  be  a  butty,  that  'ull  be  better 
pay ;  then  I  shall  help  dad  in  his  stall,  and  at  last  I 
shall  be  on  full  wages." 

"  And  after  that  ?  "  the  artist  asked. 

The  lad  looked  puzzled. 

"  What  will  you  look  forward  to  after  that  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  that  there's  nowt  else,"  the  boy 
said,  "  except  perhaps  some  day  I  might,  perhaps—- 
but it  ain't  likely — but  I  might  get  to  be  a  viewer." 

"  But  why  don't  you  make  up  your  mind  to  be 
something  better  still,  Jack — a  manager  ?  " 

"  What  1  "  exclaimed  the  boy  incredulously  ;  "  a 
manager,  like  Fenton,  who  lives  in  that  big  house 
on  the  hill  I  Why,  he's  a  gentleman." 

"  Jack,"  the  artist  said,  stopping  in  his  work  now, 
and  speaking  very  earnestly,  "  there  is  not  a  lad  of 
your  age  in  the  land,  brought  up  as  a  miner,  or  a 
mechanic,  or  an  artisan,  who  may  not,  if  he  sets  it 


THE  RESOLUTION.  33 

before  him,  and  gives  his  whole  mind  to  it,  end  by 
being  a  rich  man  and  a  gentleman.  If  a  lad  from 
the  first  makes  up  his  mind  to  three  things — to  work,  / 
to  save,  and  to  learn — he  can  rise  in  the  world. 
You  won't  be  able  to  save  out  of  what  you  get  at  first, 
but  you  can  learn  when  your  work  is  done.  You 
can  read  and  study  of  an  evening.  Then  when  you 
get  better  wages,  save  something ;  when,  at  twenty- 
one  or  so,  you  get  man's  wages,  live  on  less  than 
half,  and  lay  by  the  rest.  Don't  marry  until  you're 
thirty ;  keep  away  from  the  public  house ;  work, 
study  steadily  and  intelligently;  and  by  the  time 
you  are  thirty  you  will  have  a  thousand  pounds  laid 
by,  and  be  fit  to  take  a  manager's  place." 

"  Do'st  mean  that,  sir  ?  "  the  boy  asked  quickly. 

"  I  do,  Jack.  My  case  is  something  like  it.  My 
father  was  a  village  schoolmaster.  I  went  when 
about  twelve  years  old  to  a  pottery  at  Burslem. 
My  father  told  me  pretty  well  what  I  have  told  you. 
I  determined  to  try  hard  at  any  rate.  I  worked  in 
every  spare  hour  to  improve  myself  generally,  and 
I  went  three  evenings  a  week  to  the  art  school.  I 
liked  it,  and  the  master  told  me  if  I  stuck  to  it,  I 
might  be  a  painter  some  day.  I  did  stick  to  it,  and 
at  twenty  could  paint  well  enough  to  go  into  that 
branch  of  pottery.  I  stuck  to  it,  and  at  twenty-five 
was  getting  as  high  pay  as  any  one  in  Burslem,  ex- 
cept one  or  two  foreign  artists.  I  am  thirty  now. 
I  still  paint  at  times  on  china,  but  I  am  now  getting 
I 


3*  FACING  DEATtf. 

well  known  as  an  artist,  and  am,  I  hope,  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  the  boy  said,  rising  slowly  to  his 
feet  and  coming  close  to  the  artist.  "  I'll  do  it,  sir. 
They  call  me  Bull-dog,  and  I'll  stick  to  it." 

"  Very  well,"  the  artist  said,  holding  out  his  hand ; 
"  that's  a  bargain  Jack.  Now,  give  me  your  name 
and  address  ;  here  are  mine.  It's  the  ist  of  June 
to-day.  Now  perhaps  it  will  help  you  a  little  if  I 
write  to  you  on  the  ist  of  June  every  year ;  and  you 
shall  answer  me,  telling  me  how  you  are  getting  on, 
and  whether  I  can  in  any  way  give  you  help  or 
advice.  If  I  don't  get  an  answer  from  you,  I  shall 
suppose  that  you  have  got  tired  of  it  and  have  given 
it  up.'* 

"  Don't  you  never  go  to  suppose  that,  sir,"  the 
boy  said  earnestly.  "  If  thou  doesn't  get  an  answer 
thou'llt  know  that  I've  been  killed,  as  father  was,  in 
a  fall  or  an  explosion.  Thank  you,  sir."  And  the 
boy  walked  quietly  off,  with  the  old  bull-dog  lazily 
waddling  behind  him. 

"  There  are  the  makings  of  a  man  in  that  boy," 
the  artist  said  to  himself.  "  I  wish  though  I  had 
finished  his  figure  before  we  began  to  talk  about  his 
plans  for  the  future.  I  shall  be  very  proud  of  that 
boy  if  he  ever  makes  a  name  for  himself." 

That  evening  Jack  sat  on  a  low  stool  and  gazed 
into  the  fire  so  steadily  and  silently  that  Bill  Haden, 
albeit  not  given  to  observe  his  moods,  asked : 


THE  RESOLUTION.  35 

«  What  ail'st,  lad  ?     What  be'st  thinkin'  o'  ?  " 

Jack's  thoughts  were  so  deep  that  it  took  him 
some  time  to  shake  them  off  and  to  turn  upon  his 
stool. 

"  Oi'm  thinking  o'  getting  laming." 

"  Thinking  o'  getting  laming  1 "  the  miner  re- 
peated in  astonishment,  "  why  'ee  be  just  a  dun  o* 
getting  laming.  'Ee  ha'  been  at  it  for  the  last  foive 
year,  lad,  and  noo  thou'st  going  to  be  done  wi'  it 
and  to  work  in  the  pit." 

"  Oi'm  a  going  to  work  in  the  pit,  dad,  and  oi'm 
a  gwine  to  get  laming  too.  Oi've  made  oop  my 
mind,  an  oi'm  gwine  to  do  it." 

"  But  bain't  'ee  got  laming  ?  "  the  miner  said, 
"  Thou  canst  read  and  write  foine,  which  is  more  nor 
I  can  do,  and  what  dost  want  more  ? " 

"  Oi'm  a  going  to  get  laming,"  Jack  said  again, 
steadily  repeating  the  formula,  "  and  oi'm  gwine 
soom  day  to  be  a  manager." 

Bill  Haden  stared  at  the  boy  and  then  burst  into 
a  fit  of  laughter.  "  Well,  this  bangs  a'." 

Mrs.  Haden  was  as  surprised,  but  more  sym- 
pathetic. 

"  Bless  the  boy,  what  hast  got  in  your  head 
now  ? " 

Jack  showed  not  the  slightest  sign  of  discom- 
fiture at  his  father's  laughter. 

"  I  met  a  chap  to-day,"  he  said  in  answer  to  Mrs. 
Haden,  "  as  told  I  that  if  I  made  up  my  moind  to 


36  FACING  DEATH. 

work  and  joost  stuck  to  't,  I  could  surely  make  a 
man  o'  myself,  and  might  even  roise  soom  day  to  be  a 
manager  ;  and  I'm  a  going  to  do  it." 

"  Doant  'ee  say  a  word  to  check  the  boy,  Bill," 
Mrs.  Haden  said  to  her  husband,  as  he  was  about 
to  burst  out  into  jeering  remarks.  "  I  tell  'ee,  what 
Jack  says  he  sticks  to,  and  you  oughter  know  that 
by  this  time.  What  the  man,  whos'ever  he  might 
be,  said,  was  right,  Jack,"  she  went  on,  turning  to 
the  boy.  "  Laming  is  a  great  thing.  So  far  you 
ain't  showed  any  turn  for  laming,  Jack,  as  I  ever 
seed,  but  if  you  get  it  you  may  raise  yourself  to  be 
an  overman  or  a  viewer,  though  I  doan't  say  a  man- 
ager ;  that  seems  too  far  away  altogether.  If  you 
stick  to  what  you  say  you  may  do  it,  Jack.  I  can't 
help  you  in  laming,  for  I  ain't  got  none  myself,  but 
if  I  can  help  you  in  any  other  way  I  'ull,  and  so  'uli 
feyther,  though  he  does  laugh  a  bit." 

"  He  be  roight  enough  to  laugh,"  Jack  said,  "  for 
I  hain't  had  any  turn  that  way.  I  doan't  know  as 
I  ha'  now,  but  I'm  agoing  to  try,  and  if  trying  can 
do  it,"  he  said  in  his  steady  tones,  "  oi'll  do  it.  I 
think  I  ha'  got  some  o'  the  bull-dog  strain  in  me, 
and  I'll  hoult  on  to  it  as  Bess  would  hoult  on  to  a 
man's  throat  if  she  pinned  him." 

"  I  know  you  will,  my  lad,"  Mrs.  Haden  said, 
while  her  husband,  lighting  his  pipe  and  turning  to 
go  out,  said : 

«'  It  matters  nowt  to  me  one  way  or  t'other,  but 


THE  RESOLUTION.  37 

thoind,  lad,  laming  or  no  laming,  thou'st  got  to  go 
into  the  pit  next  week  and  arn  your  living." 

"Jack,"  Mrs.  Haden  said  presently,  "  dost  know, 
I  wouldn't  do  nowt  wi'  this  new  fancy  o'  thine,  not 
till  arter  thou'st  a  been  to  work  i'  the  pit  for  awhile ; 
a  week  or  two  will  make  no  differ  to  'ee,  and  thou 
doan't  know  yet  how  tired  ye '11  be  when  ye  coom 
oop  nor  how  thou'lt  long  for  the  air  and  play  wi' 
lads  o'  thy  own  age.  I  believe,  Jack,  quite  believe 
that  thou  be'st  in  arnest  on  it,  and  I  know  well  that 
when  thou  dost  begin  thou'lt  stick  to 't.  But  it  were 
better  to  wait  till  thou  know'st  what  'tis  thou  art 
undertaking." 

Jack  felt  that  there  was  a  good  deal  in  what  hia 
mother  said.  "  Very  well,  mother.  'Twan't  make 
no  differ  to  me,  but  oi'll  do  as  th'  asks  me." 


fACLVG 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  VAUGHAN  PIT. 

AMONG  the  group  of  men  and  boys  assembled 
Tound  the  mouth  of  the  Vaughan  pit  on  the  yth  of 
June  were  two  little  lads,  Jack  Simpson  and  Harry 
Shepherd,  who  were  to  make  the  descent  for  the 
ifirst  time.  The  boys  were  fast  friends.  Harry  was 
the  taller  but  was  slighter  than  Jack,  and  far  less 
sturdy  and  strong.  Both  were  glad  that  they  were 
to  go  into  the  pit,  for  although  the  life  of  a  gate-boy 
is  dull  and  monotonous,  yet  in  the  pit  villages  the 
boys  look  forward  to  it  as  marking  the  first  step  in 
a  man's  life,  as  putting  school  and  lessons  behind, 
and  as  raising  them  to  a  position  far  in  advance  of 
their  former  associates. 

Nowadays  the  law  has  stepped  in,  and  the  em- 
ployment of  such  mere  children  in  the  mines  is  for- 
bidden, but  at  that  time  it  had  not  been  changed, 
and  if  a  boy  was  big  enough  to  shut  a  door  he  was 
big  enough  to  go  into  a  mine. 

"  Dost  feel  skeary,  Jack  ? "  Harry  asked. 

"  Noa,"  Jack  said ;  "  what  be  there  to  be  skeary 
aboot  ?  I  bean't  afeard  of  the  dark,  and  they  say 


THE  VAUGHAN'  PIT.  39 

in  time  'ee  get  used  to  it,  and  can  see  pretty  nigh 
loike  a  cat.  There  be  dad  a  calling.  Good-by, 
Harry,  I'll  see  thee  to-night." 

The  yard  of  the  Vaughan  resembled  that  of  other 
large  collieries.  It  was  a  large  space,  black  and 
grimy,  on  which  lines  of  rails  were  laid  down  in  all 
directions ;  on  these  stood  trains  of  wagons,  while 
here  and  there  were  great  piles  of  coal.  In  the 
center  rose  up  a  lofty  scaffolding  of  massive  beams. 
At  the  top  of  this  was  the  wheel  over  which  a  strong 
wire  rope  or  band  ran  to  the  winding  engine  close 
by,  while  from  the  other  end  hung  the  cage,  a 
wooden  box  some  six  feet  square.  At  the  corner 
of  this  box  were  clips  or  runners  which  fitted  on  to 
the  guides  in  the  shaft  and  so  prevented  any  motion 
of  swinging  or  swaying.  So  smoothly  do  these 
cages  work  that,  standing  in  one  as  it  is  lowered  or 
drawn  up,  only  a  very  slight  vibration  or  tremor 
tells  that  you  are  in  motion.  Near  the  square  house 
in  which  stood  the  winding  engine  was  another  pre- 
cisely similar  occupied  by  the  pumping  engine. 

The  Vaughan  was  worked  by  a  single  shaft 
divided  by  a  strong  wooden  partition  into  two,  one 
of  these  known  as  the  downcast  shaft,  that  is,  the 
shaft  through  which  the  air  descends  into  the  mine, 
the  other  the  upcast,  through  which  the  current,  hav- 
ing made  its  way  through  all  the  windings  and  turn, 
ings  of  the  roadways  below,  again  ascend*  to  the 
surface.  This  system  of  working  by  a  singl* 


40  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

however,  is  very  dangerous,  as,  in  the  event  of  au 
explosion,  both  shafts  may  become  involved  in  the 
disaster  and  there  will  be  no  means  of  getting  at  the 
imprisoned  miners.  Nowadays  all  well-regulated 
mines  have  two  shafts,  one  at  a  distance  from  the 
other,  but  this  was  less  common  thirty  years  back, 
and  the  Vaughan,  like  most  of  its  neighbors,  was 
worked  with  a  single  shaft. 

Each  miner  before  descending  went  to  the  lamp- 
room  and  received  a  lighted  "  Davy."  As  almost 
every  one  is  aware,  the  principle  of  this  lamp,  and 
indeed  of  all  that  have  since  been  invented,  is  that 
flame  will  not  pass  through  a  close  wire-gauze.  The 
lamp  is  surrounded  with  this  gauze,  and  although, 
should  the  air  be  filled  with  gas  to  an  explosive 
point,  it  will  ignite  if  it  comes  in  contact  with  flame, 
the  gauze  prevents  the  light  of  the  lamp  from  ex- 
ploding the  gas-charged  air  outside.  When  the  air 
is  of  a  very  explosive  character  even  the  Davy- 
lamps  have  to  be  extinguished,  as  the  heat  caused 
by  the  frequent  ignitions  within  the  lamp  raises  the 
gauze  to  a  red  heat,  and  the  gas  beyond  will  take 
fire. 

Jack  took  his  place  in  the  cage  with  Bill  Haden 
and  as  many  others  as  it  cowld  contain.  He  gave  a 
little  start  as  he  felt  a  sudden  sinking ;  the  sides  of 
the  shaft  seemed  to  shoot  up  all  round  him,  wet, 
shining,  and  black.  A  few  seconds  and  the  light 
pf  day  had  vanished,  and  they  were  in  darkness, 


THE  VAUGHAN  PIT.  41 

save  that  overhead  was  a  square  blue  patch  of  sky 
every  moment  diminishing  in  size. 

"  Be'st  afeard,  Jack  ?  "  Bill  Haden  asked,  raising 
his  lamp  so  as  to  get  a  sight  of  the  boy's  face. 

"  Noa,  why  should  I  ?  "  Jack  said  ;  "  I  heard  'ee 
say  that  the  ropes  were  new  last  month,  so  there 
ain't  nothing  to  be  afeard  on  1 " 

"  That  is  the  young  un  they  call  Bull-dog,  ain't  it, 
Bill  ? " 

"  Aye  1 "  Bill  Haden  answered ;  "  he's  game,  he  is ; 
you  can't  make  him  yelp.  I've  licked  him  till  I  was 
tired,  but  he  never  whimpered.  Now  then,  out  you 
go  ;  "  and  as  the  cage  stopped  the  men  all  stepped 
out  and  started  for  the  places  in  which  they  were 
working. 

"  Coom  along,  Jack ;  the  viewer  told  me  to  put 
you  at  No.  10  gate." 

It  was  ten  minutes  fast — and  as  Jack  thought,  very 
unpleasant — walking.  The  sleepers  on  which  the 
rails  for  the  corves,  or  little  wagons,  were  laid,  were 
very  slippery.  Pools  of  water  stood  between  them 
and  often  covered  them,  and  blocks  of  coal  of  all 
sizes,  which  had  shaken  from  the  corves,  lay  in  the 
road.  When  it  was  not  water  it  was  black  mud. 
Sometimes  a  line  of  wagons  full  or  empty  stood  on 
the  rails,  and  to  pass  these  they  had  to  squeze  against 
the  damp  walls.  Before  Jie  reached  his  post  the 
gloss  of  Jack's  new  mining  clothes  had  departed 
forever.  The  white  jumper  was  covered  with  black 


42  FACING  DEATH. 

Smears,  and  two  or  three  falls  on  the  slippery  wooden 
sleepers  had  effectively  blackened  his  canvas 
trousers. 

"  There,  lad,"  Bill  Haden  said  at  length,  holding 
his  lamp  high  to  afford  a  general  view  of  the  situa- 
tion ;  "  that's  your  place." 

"  The  place  "  was  a  hollow  like  a  cupboard  some 
five  feet  high,  two  deep,  and  a  little  wider.  There 
was  a  wooden  seat  in  it,  a  peg  or  two  had  been 
driven  into  the  rock  to  hang  things  from,  and  a 
handful  or  so  of  hay  upon  the  ground  showed,  that 
Jack's  predecessor  had  an  idea  of  comfort. 

"  There  you  are,  and  not  a  bad  place  either,  Jack. 
You  see  this  cord  ?  Now,  when  thou  hearest  a  team 
of  corves  coming  along,  pull  yon  end  and  open  the 
door.  When  they  have  passed  let  go  the  cord  and 
the  door  shuts  o'  'tself,  for  it's  got  a  Weight  and 
pulley.  It's  thy  business  to  see  that  it  has  shut,  for 
if  a  chunk  of  coal  has  happened  to  fall  and  stops 
the  door  from  shutting,  the  ventilation  goes  wrong 
and  we  all  goes  to  kingdom  come  in  no  time.  That's 
all  thou'st  got  to  do  'cept  to  keep  awake.  Of  course 
you  woan't  do  that;  no  boy  does.  So  that  yoularn 
to  wake  up  when  the  corves  come  along,  that  ull  do 
foine." 

"  But  if  I  doari't  ?  "  Jack  asked. 

"  Well,  if  thou  doan't  thou'lt  get  waked  with  a 
cuff  o'  th'  ear  by  the  driver,  and  it  depends  on  what 
sort  o'  chap  he  be  how  hard  the  cuff  thou'lt  get.  I 


THE  VAUGHAN  PIT.  43 

doan't  think  thou'lt  feel  lonely  here,  for  along  that 
side  road  they  bring  down  other  corves  and  the 
horse  comes  and  takes  'em  on.  On  this  main  road 
the  horses  go  through  to  the  upper  end  of  the  mine, 
half  a  mile  further." 

"  How  do  it  make  a  differ  whether  this  door  be 
open  or  shut,  father  ?  " 

"  Well,  lad,  the  air  comes  up  the  road  we  ha' 
come  by.  Now  it's  wanted  to  go  round  about  by 
the  workings  on  that  side  road.  This  door  be  put 
to  stop  it  from  going  by  the  straight  road,  so  there's 
nothing  for  it  but  for  to  go  round  by  the  workings, 
maybe  for  a  mile,  maybe  three  miles,  till  it  gets  back 
into  the  main  road  again.  So  when  the  door  is 
open  the  ventilation  is  checked  right  round  the 
workings  ;  so  mind  doan't  'ee  open  the  door  till  the 
horse  is  close  to  it,  and  shut  it  directly  it's  past." 

When  the  door  closed  behind  his  foster-father, 
and  Jack  Simpson  remained  alone  in  the  dense 
darkness,  a  feeling  of  utter  loneliness  and  desertion 
stole  over  him.  The  blackness  was  intense  and  ab- 
solute ;  a  low  confused  murmur,  the  reverberation  of 
far-off  noises  in  the  pit,  sounded  in  his  ears.  He 
spoke,  and  his  voice  sounded  muffled  and  dull. 

"  This  be  worse  nor  I  looked  for,"  the  boy  said 
to  himself ;  "  I  suppose  I'll  get  used  to  it,  but  I  doan't 
wonder  that  some  young  uns  who  ain't  strong  as  I 
be  are  badly  frighted  at  first." 

Presently  the  confused    noise   seemed   to  get 


44  FACING  DEATH. 

louder,  then  a  distinct  rumble  was  heard,  and  Jack 
felt  with  delight  that  a  train  of  wagons  was  ar> 
preaching.  Then  he  saw  far  along  the  gallery  a 
light  swinging,  as  the  man  who  bore  it  walked  ahead 
of  the  horse.  The  water  in  the  little  pools  be- 
tween the  sleepers  reflected  it  in  a  score  of  little 
lines  of  light.  Now  he  could  hear  the  hollow 
splashing  sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs,  and  prepared 
to  answer  to  the  shout  of  "  door  "  by  pulling  at  the 
string  beside  him.  When  the  light  came  within 
twenty  yards  it  changed  its  direction  ;  he  heard  the 
grating  of  the  wheels  against  the  points,  and  saw 
that  the  wagons  were  going  up  the  other  road.  There 
upon  a  siding  they  came  to  a  stop,  and  a  minute 
or  two  later  a  number  of  full  wagons  were  brought 
down  by  another  horse.  A  few  words  were  ex- 
changed by  the  drivers,  but  Jack's  ear,  unaccustomed 
to  the  echoes  of  a  mine,  could  not  catch  what  they 
said;  then  the  first  man  hitched  his  horse  on  to  the 
full  wagons  and  started  for  the  shaft,  while  the  other 
with  the  empties  went  up  the  road  to  the  workings. 
The  incident,  slight  as  it  had  been,  had  altogether 
dissipated  the  feeling  of  uneasiness  of  which  Jack 
had  been  conscious.  Before,  he  had  seemed  shut 
out  from  the  world,  as  if  within  a  living  tomb,  but 
the  sight  of  men  engaged  at  their  ordinary  work 
close  by  him  completely  restored  the  balance  of  his 
mind,  and  henceforth  he  never  felt  the  slightest  dis- 
comfort at  being  alone  in  the  dark. 


TtiE  VAUGftAN  PIT.  45 

A  few  minutes  after  the  rumbling  of  the  depart- 
ing train  of  "tubs"  had  died  in  his  ear,  he  again 
heard  it.  Again  he  watched  the  slowly  approaching 
light,  and  when  it  came  within  a  few  yards  of  him 
he  heard  the  expected  shout  "  Gate  I  "  He  replied 
by  a  shout  of  "  All  right !  "  and  as  the  driver  came 
level  with  him  pulled  the  cord  and  the  door  opened. 

"  G'long,  Smiler,"  the  driver  said,  and  the  horse 
went  forward.  The  man  leaned  forward  and  raised 
his  lamp  to  Jack's  face. 

"  I  thawt  'twasn't  Jim  Brown's  voice.  Whobe'st 
thou  ?  " 

"Jack  Simpson  ;  I  live  along  wi'  Bill  Haden." 

"  Aye,  aye,  I  know'st.  I  knew  thy  father,  a  good 
sort  he  was  too.  Be'st  thy  first  day  doon  the 
pit  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  Jack  said. 

"  Foind  it  dark  and  lonesome,  eh  ?  Thou'lt  get 
used  to  it  soon." 

"  How  often  do  the  corves  come  along  ?  "  Jack 
asked  as  the  man  prepared  to  run  on  after  the  wag- 
ons, the  last  of  which  had  just  passed. 

"  There  be  a  set  goes  out  every  ten  minutes,  may- 
be, on  this  road,  and  every  twenty  minutes  on  the 
other,  two  o*  ours  to  one  o'  theirs  ;  "  and  he  moved 
forward. 

Jack  let  the  door  slam  after  him,  went  out  and 
felt  that  it  had  shut  firmly,  and  then  resumed  his 
seat  in  his  niche.  He  whistled  for  a  bit,  and  then 


46  FACING  DEATH. 

his  thoughts  turned  to  the  learning  which  he  haa 
determined  firmly  to  acquire. 

"  I  wish  I'd  ha'  took  to  it  afore,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "What  a  sight  o'  time  I  ha'  lostl  I'll  go 
over  in  my  head  all  the  lessons  I  can  remember ; 
and  them  as  I  doan't  know,  and  that's  the  best  part, 
I  reckon  I'll  look  up  when  I  get  hoame.  Every  day 
what  I  learns  fresh  I'll  go  over  down  here.  I  shall 
get  it  perfect  then,  and  it  will  pass  the  time  away 
finely.  I'll  begin  at  oncet.  Twice  two  is  four ; " 
and  so  Jack  passed  the  hours  of  his  first  day  in  the 
pit,  recalling  his  lessons,  reproaching  himself  con- 
tinually and  bitterly  with  the  time  he  had  wasted, 
breaking  off  every  ten  minutes  from  his  rehearsals 
to  open  the  door  for  the  train  of  corves  going  in 
empty  and  going  out  full,  exchanging  a  few  words 
each  time  with  the  drivers,  all  of  whom  were  good- 
naturedly  anxious  to  cheer  up  the  new  boy,  who 
must,  as  they  supposed,  be  feeling  the  loneliness  of 
his  first  day  in  the  pit  keenly.  Such  was  by  no 
means  the  case  with  Jack,  and  he  was  quite  taken 
by  surprise  when  a  driver  said  to  him,  "  This  be  the 
last  train  this  shift." 

"  Why,  it  bean't  nigh  two  o'clock,  surely  ?  "  he 
sc.id. 

"  It  be,"  the  driver  said ;  "  wants  ten  minutes, 
that's  all." 

Soon  the  miners  began  to  come  along. 

"  Hullo,  Jack  I "  Bill  Haden's  voice  said.     "  Be'st 


THE  VAUGHAN  PIT.  47 

Still  here  ?  Come  along  of  me.  Why  didst  stop, 
lad  ?  Thou  canst  always  quit  thy  post  when  the 
first  man  comes  through  on  his  way  out.  Hast  felt 
it  lonely,  lad  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  dad." 

"  That's  straange  too,"  Bill  said.  "  Most  young 
boys  finds  it  awful  lonely  o'  first.  I  know  I  thowt 
that  first  day  were  never  coining  to  an  end.  Weren't 
frighted  at  t'  dark  ?  " 

"  I  thought  it  was  onnatural  dark  and  still  the 
first  ten  minutes,"  Jack  admitted  honestly ;  "  but 
after  the  first  set  o'  corves  came  along  I  never  thawt 
no  more  about  the  dark." 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  shaft,  joomp  in,  there's  just 
room  for  you  and  me." 


48  FAC2NG  DEA211, 


CHAPTER  V. 

SETTING   TO  WORK. 

A  WEEK  after  Jack  Simpson  had  gone  to  work  in 
the  "  Vaughan  "  there  was  a  knock  one  evening  at 
the  door  of  the  schoolmaster  of  the  Stokebridge 
National  School. 

"  Please,  Mr.  Merton,  can  I  speak  to  'ee  ? " 

"  What,  is  that  you,  Jack  Simpson  1  "  the  school- 
master said,  holding  the  candle  so  that  its  light  fell 
upon  the  boy  before  him.  "  Yes,  come  in,  my  boy." 
The  lad  followed  him  into  the  parlor.  "  Sit  down, 
Jack.  Now  what  is  it  ?  Nothing  the  matter  at 
home,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Noa,  sir.  I  wanted  to  ask  'ee  what  books  I 
orter  read,  so  that  I  may  grow  up  a  clever  man  ?  " 

"  Bless  me,  Jack,"  Mr.  Merton  said,  "  why,  I  never 
expected  this  from  you." 

"  Noa,  sir,  but  I  ha'  made  up  my  mind  to  get  on, 
and  I  means  to  work  hard.  I  ha'  been  told,  sir, 
that  if  I  studies  at  books  in  all  my  spare  time,  and 
saves  my  money,  and  works  well,  I  may  get  up 
high  some  day ;  "  and  the  boy  looked  wistfully  up 
in  the  master's  face  for  a  confirmation  of  what  had 
been  told  him. 


SETTING  TO  WORK.  ^.g 

"  That's  quite  right,  Jack,  whoever  told  you. 
Hard  work,  study,  thrift,  and  intelligence  will  take 
any  lad  from  the  bottom  of  the  tree  to  the  top. 
And  you  are  quite  in  earnest,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Quite,  sir." 

The  schoolmaster  sat  in  silence  for  a  little  time. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  for  a  bit  you  must  work  at  ordi- 
nary school-books,  and  get  a  fair  general  knowledge, 
and  be  careful  to  observe  the  way  things  are  ex- 
pressed— the  grammar,  I  mean ;  read  aloud  when 
you  are  alone,  and  try  in  speaking  to  get  rid  cf 
'  thees '  and  '  thous,'  and  other  mistakes  of  speech. 
I  can  lend  you  ordinary  school-books,  fit  for  you  for 
the  next  four  or  five  years,  and  will  always  explain 
any  difficulties  you  may  meet  with.  The  books  you 
will  want  afterward  you  can  buy  second-hand  at 
Wolverhampton  or  Birmingham.  But  there  will  be 
time  to  talk  about  that  hereafter.  What  time  have 
you  to  study  ?  You  have  gone  into  the  Vaughan 
pit,  have  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  ha'  time  enough  alf  day,  for  I  ha' 
now't  to  do  but  just  to  open  and  shut  a  door  when 
the  tubs  come  along ;  but  I  ha'  no  light." 

"  The  time  must  seem  very  long  in  the  dark  all  day." 

"  It  do  seem  long,  sir ;  and  it  will  be  wuss  when 
I  want  to  read,  and  know  I  am  just  wasting  time. 
But  I  can  read  at  home  after  work,  when  dad  goes 
out.  It's  light  now,  and  I  could  read  out  o'  doors 
till  nine  o'clock.  Mother  would  give  me  a  candle 
4 


50  FACING  DEATH. 

now  and  again ;  and  I  should  get  on  first  rate  in  the 
pit,  but  the  Vaughan  is  a  fiery  vein,  and  they  ha' 
nowt  but  Daveys." 

"  Well,  my  boy,  here  are  a  few  books,  which  will 
suit  you  for  a  time.  Let  me  know  how  you  are 
getting  on ;  and  when  you  have  mastered  the  books, 
let  me  know.  Remember,  you  want  to  learn  them 
thoroughly,  and  not  just  well  enough  to  rub  through 
without  getting  the  strap.  But  don't  overdo  it. 
You  are  a  very  small  boy  yet,  and  it  is  of  as  much 
importance  for  your  future  life  that  you  should  grow 
y  strong  in  body  as  well  as  in  brain.  So  you  must 
not  give  up  play.  If  you  were  to  do  nothing  but  sit 
in  the  dark,  and  to  study  at  all  other  times,  you 
would  soon  become  a  fool.  So  you  must  give  time 
to  play  as  well  as  to  work.  Remember,  do  not  be 
cast  down  with  difficulties ;  they  will  pass  by  if  you 
face  them.  There  is  an  old  saying,  'God  helps 
those  who  help  themselves.'  And  look  here,  Jack, 
I  can  tell  you  the  best  way  to  make  the  time  pass 
quickly  while  you  are  in  the  dark.  Set  yourself 
sums  to  do  in  your  head.  You  will  find  it  difficult 
at  first,  but  it  will  come  easier  with  practise,  and  as 
you  get  on  I  will  give  you  a  book  on  '  mental  arith- 
metic,' and  you  will  find  that  there  is  nothing  more 
useful  than  being  able  to  make  complicated  calcula- 
tions in  your  head." 

The  next  six  months  passed  quickly  with  Jack 
Simpson.  He  started  early  with  his  father  for  the 


SETTING  TO  WORK.  51 

pit,  and  the  hours  there,  which  at  first  had  seemed 
so  long,  slipped  by  rapidly  as  he  multiplied,  and 
added  and  subtracted,  finding  that  he  could  daily 
master  longer  lines  of  figures.  Of  an  afternoon  he 
played  with  the  other  pit  boys,  and  after  that 
worked  steadily  at  his  books  till  eleven  o'clock,  two 
hours  after  Bill  Haden  and  his  wife  had  gone  to 
bed.  Once  a  week  he  went  in  the  evening  to  Mr. 
Merton,  who  was  astonished  at  the  progress  that 
the  boy  was  making,  and  willingly  devoted  an  hour 
to  explaining  difficulties  and  helping  him  on  with 
his  work. 

Satisfied  now  that  the  boy  was  in  earnest,  Mr. 
Merton  a  few  days  afterward  took  occasion,  when 
Mr.  Brook,  the  owner  of  the  Vaughan  mine,  called 
in  on  school  business,  to  tell  him  how  one  of  the 
pit  boys  was  striving  to  educate  himself. 

"  He  is  really  in  earnest,  Merton  ;  it  is  not  a 
mere  freak  ? " 

"  No,  Mr.  Brook,  the  lad  will  stick  to  it,  I'm  sure. 
He  goes  by  the  nickname  of  Bull-dog,  and  I  don't 
think  he  is  badly  named ;  he  has  both  the  pluck 
and  the  tenacity  of  one." 

"  Very  well,  Merton  ;  I  am  glad  you  spoke  to  me 
about  it.  I  wish  a  few  more  boys  would  try  and 
educate  themselves  for  viewers  and  underground 
managers  ;  it  is  difficult  indeed  to  get  men  who  are 
anything  but  working  miners.  I'll  make  a  note  of 
bis  name." 


5  z  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

A  few  days  afterward  Mr.  Brook,  after  going 
through  the  books,  went  over  the  mine  with  the  un- 
derground manager. 

"  Do  the  wagons  often  get  off  the  metals  along 
this  road,  Evans  ?  "  he  asked,  stopping  at  one  of 
the  doors  which  regulate  the  ventilation. 

"  Pretty  often,  sir ;  the  rails  are  not  very  true, 
and  the  sleepers  want  renewing." 

"  It  would  be  as  well  if  there  were  an  extra  light 
somewhere  here ;  it  would  be  handy.  This  is  Num- 
ber Ten  door,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Who  is  this  ?  a  new  hand,  is  he  not  ? "  raising  his 
lamp  so  as  to  have  a  full  look  at  the  lad,  who  was 
standing  respectfully  in  the  niche  in  the  rock  cut 
for  him. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  he  is  the  son  of  a  hand  who  was  killed 
in  the  pit  some  ten  years  ago — Simpson." 

"  Ah  1  I  remember,"  Mr.  Brook  said.  "  Well, 
serve  the  boy  a  lamp  out  when  he  goes  down  of  a 
day.  You'll  be  careful  with  it,  lad,  and  not  let  it 
fall  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  Jack  said,  in  a  tone  of  delight; 
'•'  and  please,  sir,  may  I  read  when  I  am  not  wanted  ?  " 

"  Certainly  you  may,"  his  master  said ;  "  only 
you  must  not  neglect  your  work ;  "  and  then  Mr. 
Brook  went  on,  leaving  Jack  so  overjoyed  that  for 
that  afternoon  at  least  his  attempts  at  mental  arith- 
metic were  egregious  failures. 


"  THE  OLD  SHAf'l. ''  53 


CHAPTER  VI. 
"THE  OLD  SHAFT." 

IN  the  corner  of  a  rough  piece  of  ground  near 
the  Vaughan  was  situated  what  was  known  as  the 
old  shaft.  It  had  been  made  many  years  before, 
with  a  view  to  working  coal  there.  The  owners 
of  the  Vaughan,  which  at  the  time  was  just  com- 
mencing work,  had,  however,  bought  up  the  ground, 
and  as  it  adjoined  their  own  and  could  be  worked 
in  connection  with  it,  they  stopped  the  sinking  here. 
This  was  so  long  ago  that  the  rubbish  which  had 
formed  a  mound  round  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  had 
been  long  covered  with  vegetation,  and  a  fence 
placed  round  the  pit  had  fallen  into  decay. 

The  shaft  had  been  sunk  some  fifty  fathoms,  but 
was  now  full  of  water  to  within  forty  feet  of  the 
surface.  Some  boards  covered  the  top,  and  the  ad- 
venturous spirits  among  the  boys  would  drop  stones 
through  the  openings  between  them,  and  listen  to 
the  splash  as  they  struck  the  water  below,  or  would 
light  pieces  of  paper  and  watch  them  falling  into 
the  darkness,  until  they  disappeared  suddenly  as 
they  touched  the  water. 


54  FACING  DEATH. 

The  winch  used  in  the  process  of  excavation  re- 
mained, and  round  it  was  a  portion  of  the  chain  so 
old  and  rusty  as  to  be  worthless  for  any  purpose 
whatever.  Lengths  had  from  time  to  time  been 
broken  off  by  boys,  who  would  unwind  a  portion, 
and  then  three  or  four  pull  together  until  the  rust- 
eaten  links  gave  way  and  the  boys  came  to  the 
ground  with  a  crash.  It  was  a  dirty  game,  how- 
ever, dirty  even  for  pit  boys,  for  the  yellow  rust 
would  stick  to  hands  and  clothes  and  be  very  dif- 
ficult to  remove. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  a  group  of  boys  and  girls 
of  from  ten  to  fourteen  were  playing  in  the  field. 
Presently  it  was  proposed  to  play  king  of  the  castle, 
or  a  game  akin  thereto,  half  a  dozen  holding  the  cir- 
cular mound  round  the  old  pit,  while  the  rest  at- 
tacked them  and  endeavored  to  storm  the  position. 
For  some  time  the  game  went  on  with  much  shout- 
ing on  the  part  of  the  boys  and  shrill  shrieks  from 
the  girls,  as  they  were  pulled  or  pushed  down  the, 
steep  bank. 

"  Let  us  make  a  charge  a'  together,"  said  Jack 
Simpson,  who  although  not  thirteen  was  the  leader 
of  the  attacking  party. 

Then  heading  the  rush  he  went  at  full  speed  at 
the  castle.  Harry  Shepherd,  who  was  one  of  the 
defenders,  was  at  the  top,  but  Jack  had  so  much  im- 
petus that  he  gained  his  footing  and  thrust  Harry 
violently 


"  THE  OLD  SHAFT*  55 

The  top  of  the  bank  was  but  three  feet  wide,  and 
within  sloped  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  old  pit  shaft, 
fifteen  feet  below.  Harry  tottered,  and  to  avoid 
falling  backward  turned  and  with  great  strides  ran 
down  the  bank.  He  was  unable  to  arrest  his  course, 
but  went  through  the  rotten  fence  and  on  to  the 
boarding  of  the  shaft.  There  was  a  crash,  a  wild 
cry,  and  Harry  disappeared  from  the  sight  of  his 
horror-stricken  companions.  The  rotten  wood  work 
had  given  way  and  the  boy  had  fallen  into  the  old 
shaft. 

A  panic  seized  the  players,  some  rushed  away  at 
the  top  of  their  speed  shouting,  "  Harry  Shepherd 
has  fallen  down  the  old  shaft !  "  others  stood  para- 
lyzed on  the  top  of  the  mound ;  girls  screamed  and 
cried.  Two  only  appeared  to  have  possession  of 
their  wits.  The  one  wa~s  Jack  Simpson,  the  other 
was  a  girl  of  about  twelve,  Nelly  Hardy.  Jack  did 
not  hesitate  an  instant,  but  quickly  ran  down  to  the 
shaft,  Nelly  more  quietly,  but  with  an  earnest  set 
face,  followed  him.  Jack  threw  himself  down  by 
the  edge  and  peered  down  the  shaft. 

"Harry,  Harry,"  he  shouted,  "bee'st  killed?" 
A  sort  of  low  cry  came  up. 

"  He  be  alive,  he  be  drowning,"  Jack  exclaimed; 
"  quick,  get  off  them  boords." 

Nelly  at  once  attempted  to  aid  Jack  to  lift  the 
boards  aside. 

"  Coom,"  Jack  shouted  to  the  boys  on  the  top, 


56  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

**  what  bee'st  feared  of  ?  Thou  art  shamed  by  this 
lass  here.  Coom  along  and  help  us." 

Several  of  the  boys  hurried  down,  stung  by  Jack's 
taunt,  and  half  the  boards  were  soon  pulled  off. 

"  What  bee'st  goin'  to  do,  Jack  ? " 

"  Go  down,  to  be  sure,"  Jack  said.  "  Catch  hold 
O*  th'  windlass." 

"  The  chain  woan't  hold  you,  Jack." 

"  It  maun  hold  me,"  Jack  said. 

"  It  woan't  hold  two,  Jack." 

"  Lower  away  and  hold  thee  jaw,"  Jack  said ;  "  I 
am  going  to  send  him  up  first  if  he  be  alive ;  lower 
away,  I  say." 

Jack  caught  hold  of  the  end  of  the  rusty  chain,, 
and  the  boys  lowered  away  as  rapidly  as  they  could. 

Jack  held  on  stoutly,  and  continued  to  shout, 
"  Hold  on  Harry,  I  be  a-coming  ;  another  minute 
and  I'll  be  with  'ee." 

The  chain  held  firmly,  and  Jack  swung  downward 
safely. 

The  shaft  was  of  considerable  size,  and  the  open, 
ings  in  the  planks  had  enabled  the  air  to  circulate 
freely,  consequently  there  was  no  bad  air.  As  Jack 
reached  the  water  he  looked  eagerly  round,  and 
then  gave  a  cry  of  joy.  Above  the  water  he  saw  a 
hand  grasping  a  projecting  piece  of  rock. 

Harry  could  not  swim,  but  he  had  grasped  the 
edge  of  a  projecting  stone  near  which  he  had  fallen 
and  when  his  strength  had  failed,  and  he  had 


"  THE  OLD  SHAFT."  57 

sunk  below  the  surface,  his  hand  still  retained  its 
grasp. 

"  Lower  away,"  Jack  shouted,  and  the  chain  was 
slackened. 

Jack  could  swim  a  little,  just  enough  to  cross  the 
Stokebridge  Canal  where  the  water  was  only  out  of 
his  depth  for  some  fifteen  feet  in  the  middle.  First 
he  took  off  his  handkerchief  from  his  neck,  a  strong 
cotton  birdscye,  and  keeping  hold  of  the  chain  before 
him  swam  to  the  spot  where  the  hand  was  above 
water.  He  had  a  terrible  fear  of  its  slipping  and 
disappearing  below  the  dark  pool,  and  was  careful 
to  make  a  firm  grasp  at  it.  He  was  surprised  to 
find  the  body  was  of  no  weight.  Without  a  mo- 
ment's delay  he  managed  to  bind  the  wrist  fast  to 
the  chain  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  Above  there,"  he  shouted. 

"  Aye,"  came  down. 

"  Wind  up  very  steadily,  don't  jerk  it  now." 
Slowly  the  winch  revolved  and  the  body  began  to 
rise  from  the  water. 

Jack  clung  to  the  stone  which  Harry  had  grasped 
and  looked  upward.  He  wondered  vaguely  whether 
it  would  ever  reach  the  top  ;  he  wondered  whether 
the  arm  would  pull  out  of  the  socket,  and  the  body 
plump  down  into  the  water ;  he  wondered  how  long 
he  could  hold  on,  and  why  his  clothes  seemed  so 
heavy.  He  wondered  whether,  if  his  strength  went 
before  the  chain  came  down  again,  his  hand  would 


58  FACING  DEATH. 

hold  on  as  Harry's  had  done,  or  whether  he  should 
go  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  How  far  was 
it  ?  Fifty  fathoms,  three  hundred  feet ;  he  was  fifty 
below  the  mouth,  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  sink ; 
how  long  would  his  body  be  getting  to  the  bottom  ? 
What  would  his  mother  and  Bill  Haden  say? 
Would  they  ever  try  to  get  his  body  up  ? 

He  was  growing  very  weak.  As  from  another 
world  he  had  heard  the  shout  from  above  when  the 
body  of  Harry  Shepherd  reached  the  brink,  and 
afterward  some  vague  murmurs.  Presently  his 
fingers  slipped  and  he  went  down  in  the  black  pool. 
The  chill  of  the  water  to  his  face,  the  sudden  chok- 
ing sensation,  brought  his  senses  back  for  a  moment 
and  he  struck  to  the  surface. 

There,  touching  the  water,  he  saw  the  chain,  and 
as  he  grasped  it,  heard  the  shouts  of  his  comrades 
above  calling  to  him.  He  was  himself  again  now. 
The  chain  being  some  feet  below  the  surface  he 
managed  to  pass  it  round  him,  and  to  twist  it  in 
front.  He  was  too  exhausted  to  shout. 

He  saw  a  great  piece  of  paper  on  fire  fluttering 
down,  and  heard  a  shout  as  its  light  showed  him  on 
the  end  of  the  chain ;  then  he  felt  a  jar  and  felt 
himself  rising  from  the  water ;  after  that  he  knew 
nothing  more  until  he  opened  his  eyes  and  found 
himself  lying  on  the  bank. 

Nelly  Hardy  was  kneeling  by  him  and  his  head 
was  in  her  lap.  He  felt  various  hands  rubbing  him 


"  THE  OLD  SHAFT."  59 

and  slapping  the  palms  of  his  hands ;  his  animation 
was  quickly  restored.  He  had  swallowed  but  little 
water,  and  it  was  the  close  air  of  the  shaft  which 
had  overpowered  him. 

"  Halloo  1  "  he  said,  shaking  himself ,  "  let  me  up, 
I  be  all  right ;  how's  Harry  ?  " 

Harry  had  not  yet  come  round,  though  some  of 
them,  trying  to  restore  him  to  consciousness,  said 
that  they  had  heard  him  breathe  once.  Jack  as 
usual  took  the  command,  ordered  all  but  two  or 
three  to  stand  back,  told  Nelly  Hardy  to  lift  Harry's 
head  and  undo  his  shirt,  stripped  him  to  the  waist, 
and  then  set  the  boys  to  work  to  rub  vigorously  on 
his  chest.  Whether  the  efforts  would  have  been 
successful  is  doubtful,  but  at  this  moment  there  was 
a  sound  of  hurrying  feet  and  of  rapid  wheels. 

Those  who  had  started  at  the  first  alarm  had 
reached  the  village  and  told  the  news,  and  most 
fortunately  had  met  the  doctor  as  he  drove  in  from 
his  rounds.  A  man  with  a  rope  had  leaped  into  the 
gig,  and  the  doctor  as  he  drove  off  had  shouted  that 
hot  blankets  were  to  be  prepared. 

When  he  reached  the  spot  and  heard  that  Harry 
had  been  brought  to  bank,  he  leaped  out,  climbed 
the  mound,  wrapped  him  in  his  coat,  carried  him 
down  to  his  gig,  and  then  drove  back  at  full  speed 
to  Stokebridge,  where  with  the  aid  of  hot  blankets 
and  stimulants  the  lad  was  brought  back  to  con- 
sciousness. 


6d  FACING  DEATH. 

Jack  Simpson  was  the  hero  of  the  hour,  and  the 
pitmen,  accustomed  to  face  death  as  they  were,  yet 
marveled  at  a  boy  trusting  himself  to  a  chain  which 
looked  unfit  to  bear  its  own  weight  only,  and  into 
the  depth  of  a  well  where  the  air  might  have  been 
unfit  to  breathe. 

Jack  strenuously,  and  indeed  angrily,  disclaimed 
all  credit  whatever. 

"  I  didn't  think  nowt  about  the  chain,  nor  the 
air,  nor  the  water  neither.  I  thought  only  o'  Harry. 
It  was  me  as  had  pushed  him  down,  and  I'd  got  to 
bring  him  oop.  If  I  hadn't  a  gone  down  Nelly 
Hardy  would  ha'  gone,  though  she  be  a  lass  and 
doan't  know  how  to  swim  or  to  hold  on  by  a  chain, 
or  nowt ;  but  she'd  ha'  gone,  I  tell  'ee,  if  I  hadn't ; 
I  saw  it  in  her  face.  She  didn't  say  nowt,  but  she 
was  ready  to  go.  If  she  hadn't  gone  down  to  th' 
shaft  none  of  them  would  ha'  gone.  She's  a  rare 
plucked  'un,  she  is,  I  tell  'ee." 

But  in  spite  of  Jack's  indignant  repudiation  of 
any  credit,  the  brave  action  was  the  talk  of  Stoke- 
bridge  and  of  the  neighboring  pit  villages  for  some 
time.  There  are  no  men  appreciate  bravery  more 
keenly  than  pitmen,  for  they  themselves  are  ever 
ready  to  risk  their  lives  to  save  those  of  others. 
Consequently  a  subscription,  the  limit  of  which  was 
sixpence  and  the  minimum  a  penny,  was  set  on  foot, 
and  a  fortnight  later  Jack  was  presented  with  a 
gold  watch  with  an  inscription. 


"  THE  OLD  SHAFT."  6 1 

This  was  presented  in  the  schoolroom,  and  Mr. 
Brook,  who  presided  at  the  meeting,  added  on  his 
own  account  a  chain  to  match.  It  needed  almost 
force  on  the  part  of  Bill  Haden  to  compel  Jack  to 
be  present  on  this  .occasion.  When  he  was  led  up, 
flushed  with  confusion,  to  Mr.  Brook,  amid  the  cheer? 
of  the  crowd  of  those  in  the  room,  he  listened  with 
head  hung  down  to  the  remarks  of  his  employer. 

When  that  gentleman  finished  and  held  out  the 
watch  and  chain,  Jack  drew  back  and  held  up  his 
head. 

"  I  doan't  loike  it,  sir ;  I  pushed  Harry  in,  and 
in  course  I  went  down  to  pick  him  out ;  besides, 
Harry's  my  chum,  he  be ;  was  it  loikely  I  should 
stand  by  and  he  drowning  ?  I  tell  'ee,  sir,  that  you 
ain't  said  a  word  about  the  lass  Nelly  Hardy ;  she 
had  pluck,  she  had.  The  boys  ran  away  or  stood 
and  stared,  but  she  came  down  as  guiet  as  may  be. 
I  tell  'ee  sir,  her  face  was  pale,  but-she  was  as  steady 
and  as  still  as  a  man  could  ha'  been,  and  did  as  I 
told  her  wi'out  stopping  for  a  moment  and  wi'out 
as  much  as  saying  a  word.  She'd  ha'  gone  down  if 
I'd  told  her  to.  Where  be  ye,  Nelly  Hardy  ?  coom 
oot  and  let  me  show  ye  to  Mr.  Brook." 

But  Nelly,  who  was  indeed  in  the  building,  had 
shrunk  away  when  Jack  began  to  speak,  and  having 
gained  the  door,  was  on  the  point  of  flying,  when 
she  was  seized  and  brought  forward,  looking  shame.- 
iaced  and  sullen. 


62  FACING  DEATH. 

"  That  be  her,  sir,"  Jack  said  triumpharitfy, "  and 
I  say  this  watch  and  chain  ought  to  be  hers,  for  she 
did  much  more  for  a  lass  than  I  did  for  a  boy,  and 
had  no  call  to  do't  as  I  had." 

"  I  cannot  give  them  to  her,  Jack,"  Mr.  Brook 
said,  "  for  the  watch  has  been  subscribed  for  you  ; 
but  as  a  token  of  my  appreciation  of  the  bravery 
and  presence  of  mind  she  has  shown,  I  will  myself 
present  her  with  a  silver  watch  and  chain,  with  an 
inscription  saying  why  it  was  given  to  her,  and  this 
she  will,  I  am  sure,  value  all  her  life." 

Perhaps  she  would,  but  at  present  her  only 
thought  was  to  get  away.  Her  hair  was  all  rough, 
she  had  on  a  tattered  dress,  and  had  only  slipped  in 
when  those  in  charge  of  the  door  were  intent  upon 
hearing  Mr.  Brook's  address.  Without  a  word  of 
thanks,  the  instant  the  hands  restraining  her  were 
loosed  she  dived  into  the  crowd  and  escaped  like  a 
bird  from  a  snare.  Satisfied  that  justice  had  been 
done,  Jack  now  said  a  few  words  of  thanks  to  his 
employer  and  the  subscribers  to  his  present,  and  the 
meeting  then  broke  up,  Jack  returning  with  Bill 
Haden  and  his  mother,  both  beaming  with  delight. 

"  I  be  roight  down  glad,  lad,  I  doan't  know  as 
I've  been  so  glad  since  Juno's  dam  won  the  first 
prize  for  pure-bred  bull-dogs  at  the  Birmingham 
show.  It  seems  joostthe  same  sort  o' thing,  doan't 
it,  Jane  ? " 


CHAPTER  VIL 

FRIENDSHIP. 

NELLY  HARDY  had  been  unfortunate  in  her 
parents,  for  both  drank,  and  she  had  grown  up  with- 
out care  or  supervision.  She  had  neither  brother 
nor  sister.  At  school  she  was  always  either  at  the 
top  or  bottom  of  her  class  according  as  a  fit  of  dili- 
gence or  idleness  seized  her.  She  was  a  wild,  pas- 
sionate child,  feeling  bitterly  the  neglect  with  which 
she  was  treated,  her  ragged  clothes,  her  unkempt 
appearance.  She  was  feared  and  yet  liked  by  the 
girls  of  her  own  age,  for  she  was  generous,  always 
ready  to  do  a  service,  and  good-tempered  except 
when  excited  to  passion.  She  was  fonder  of  Join- 
ing with  the  boys,  when  they  would  let  her,  in 
their  games,  and,  when  angered,  was  ready  to  held 
her  own  against  them  with  tooth  and  nail. 

So  wild  were  her  bursts  of  passion  that  they  were 
sources  of  amusement  to  some  of  the  boys,  until 
Jack  upon  one  occasion  took  her  part,  and  fought 
and  conquered  the  boy  who  had  excited  her.  This 
was  on  the  Saturday  before  the  accident  had  taken 
place. 


64  FACING  DEAfff. 

For  some  days  after  the  presentation  no  one  saw 
her;  she  kept  herself  shut  up  in  the  house  or 
wandered  far  away. 

Then  she  appeared  suddenly  before  Jack  Simpson 
and  Harry  Shepherd  as  they  were  out  together. 

"  I  hate  you,  Jack  Simpson,"  she  said,  "  I  hate 
you,  I  hate  you ; "  and  then  dashed  through  the 
gap  in  the  hedge  by  which  she  had  come. 

"  Well,"  Harry  exclaimed  in  astonishment,  "  only 
to  think  I  " 

"  It  be  nat'ral  enough,"  Jack  said,  "  and  I  bain't 
surprised  one  bit.  I  orter  ha'  known  better.  I  had 
only  to  ha'  joodged  her  by  myself  and  I  should  ha* 
seen  it.  I  hated  being  dragged  forward  and  talked 
at;  it  was  bad  enough  though  I  had  been  made 
decent  and  clean  scrubbed  all  over,  and  got  my  Soon- 
day  clothes  on,  but  of  course  it  would  be  worse  for 
a  lass  anyway,  and  she  was  all  anyhow,  not  expect- 
ing it.  I  ought  to  ha'  known  better ;  I  thawt  only 
o'  my  own  feelings  and  not  o'  hers,  and  I'd  beg 
her  pardon  a  hundred  times,  but  'tain't  likely  she'd 
forgive  me.  What  is  she  a  doing  now  ?  " 

The  lads  peered  through  the  hedge.  Far  across 
the  field,  on  the  bank,  the  other  side,  lay  what 
looked  liked  a  bundle  of  clothes. 

11  She  be  a  crying,  I  expect,"  Jack  said  remorse- 
fully. "  I  do  wish  some  big  chap  would  a  come 
along  and  give  I  a  hiding ;  I  wouldn't  fight,  or 
kick,  or  do  nowt,  I  would  just  take  it,  it  would  serve 


65 

me  roight.  I  wonder  whether  it  would  do  her  any 
good  to  let  her  thrash  me.  If  it  would  she'd  be  wel- 
come. Look  here,  Harry,  she  bain't  angry  wi'  you. 
Do  thou  go  across  to  her  and  tell  her  how  main  sorry 
I  be,  and  that  I  know  I  am  a  selfish  brute  and  thought 
o'  myself  and  not  o'  her,  and  say  that  if  she  likes  I 
will  cut  her  a  stick  any  size  she  likes  and  let  her 
welt  me  just  as  long  as  she  likes  wi'out  saying  a 
word." 

Harry  was  rather  loath  to  go  on  such  an  errand, 
but  being  imperatively  ordered  by  Jack  he,  as  usual, 
did  as  his  comrade  wished.  When  he  approached 
Nelly  Hardy  he  saw  that  the  girl  was  crying  bit- 
terly, her  sobs  shaking  her  whole  body. 

"  I  be  coom  wi'  a  n?essage,"  he  began  in  a  tone 
of  apprehension,  for  h<^  regarded  Nelly  as  resembling 
a  wild  cat  in  her  dangerous  and  unexpected  attacks. 

The  girl  leaped  to  her  feet  and  turned  her  flushed, 
tear-stained  cheeks  and  eyes,  flashing  with  anger 
through  the  tears,  upon  him. 

"  What  dost  want,  Harry  Shepherd  ?  Get  thee 
gone,  or  I'll  tear  the  eyes  from  thy  head." 

"  I  doan't  coom  o'  my  own  accord,"  Harry  said 
steadily,  though  he  recoiled  a  little  before  her  fierce 
outburst.  "  I  came  on  the  part  o'  Jack  Simpson, 
and  I've  got  to  gi'  you  his  message  even  if  you  do 
fly  at  me.  I've  got  to  tell  you  that  he  be  main 
sorry,  and  he  feels  he  were  a  selfish  brute  in  a 
thinking  o'  his  own  feelings  instead  o'  thine.  He 
5 


66  PACtXG  &EAT&. 

says  he  be  so  sorry  that  if  'ee  like  he'll  cut  a  stick 
o'  any  size  you  choose  and  ull  let  you  welt  him  as 
long  as  you  like  wi'out  saying  a  word.  And  when 
Jack  says  a  thing  he  means  it,  so  if  you  wants 
to  wop  him,  come  on." 

To  Harry's  intense  surprise  the  girl's  mood 
changed.  She  dropped  on  the  ground  again,  and 
again  began  to  cry. 

After  standing  still  for  some  time  and  seeing  no 
abatement  in  her  sobs,  or  any  sign  of  her  carrying 
out  the  invitation  of  which  he  had  been  the  bearer, 
Jack's  emissary  returned  to  him. 

"  I  guv  her  your  message,  Jack,  and  she  said 
nowt,  but  there  she  be  a  crying  still." 

"  Perhaps  she  didn't  believe  you,"  Jack  said ; 
"I'd  best  go  myself."  - 

First,  with  great  deliberation,  Jack  chose  a  hazel 
stick  from  the  hedge  and  tried  it  critically.  When 
fully  assured  that  it  was  at  once  lissom  and  tough, 
and  admirably  adapted  for  his  purpose,  he  told 
Harry  to  go  on  home. 

"  Maybe,"  Jack  said,  "  she  mayn't  loike  to  use  it 
and  you  a  looking  on.  Doan't  'ee  say  a  word  to 
no  un.  If  she  likes  to  boast  as  she  ha'  welted  me 
she  ha'  a  roight  to  do  so,  but  doan't  you  say  nowt." 

Jack  walked  slowly  across  the  field  till  he  was 
close  to  the  figure  on  the  ground.  Then  he  quietly 
removed  his  jacket  and  waistcoat  and  laid  them 
down.  Then  he  said  * 


FRIENDSHIP.  67 

"  Now,  Nelly.,  I  be  ready  for  a  welting.  I  ha* 
deserved  it  if  ever  a  chap  did,  and  I'll  take  it, 
Here's  the  stick,  and  he's  a  good  un  and  will  sting 
rare,  I  warrant." 

The  girl  sat  up  and  looked  at  him  through  her 
tears. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  and  didst  really  think  I  wanted  to 
welt  thee  ? " 

"  I  didn't  know  whether  thou  didst  or  no,  Nelly, 
but  thou  said  thou  hate'st  me,  and  wi'  good  reason, 
so  if  thou  likest  to  welt  me,  here's  the  stick." 

The  girl  laughed  through  her  tears.  "  Ah  !  Jack, 
thou  must  think  that  I  am  a  wild  cat,  as  John 
Dobson  called  me  t'  other  day.  Throw  away  that 
stick,  Jack.  I  would  rather  a  thousand  times  that 
thou  laidst  it  on  my  shoulders  than  I  on  thine." 

Jack  threw  away  the  stick,  put  on  his  coat  and 
waistcoat,  and  sat  down  on  the.  bank. 

"  What  is  it  then,  lass  ?  I  know  I  were  cruel  to 
have  thee  called  forward,  but  I  didn't  think  o't ; 
but  I  had  rather  that  thou  beat  me  as  I  orter  be 
beaten  than  that  thou  should  go  on  hating  me." 

"  I  doan't  hate  thee,  Jack,  though  I  said  so ;  I 
hate  myself ;  but  I  like  thee  better  nor  all,  thou  art 
so  brave  and  good." 

"  No  braver  than  thou,  Nelly,"  Jack  said  earnestly ; 
"  I  doan't  understand  why  thou  should  first  say 
thou  hates  me  and  then  that  thou  doan't;  but  if 
thou  art  in  earnest,  that  thou  likest  me,  we'll  b§ 


68  FACING  DEATH. 

friends,  I  doan't  mean  that  we  go  for  walks  to- 
gether, and  such  like,  as  some  boys  and  girls  do, 
for  I  ha'  no  .time  for  such  things,  and  I  shouldn't 
like  it  even  if  I  had  ;  but  I'll  take  thy  part  if  any 
one  says  owt  to  thee,  and  thou  shalt  tell  me  when 
thou  art  very  bad  at  hoam  " — for  the  failings  of 
Nelly's  parents  were  public  property.  "  Thou  shalt 
be  a  friend  to  me,  not  as  a  lass  would  be,  but  as 
Harry  is,  and  thou  woan't  mind  if  I  blow  thee  up 
and  tells  'ee  of  things.  Thou  stook  to  me  by  the 
side  of  the  shaft  and  I'll  stick  to  thee." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  the  girl  said,  laying  her  hand  in 
his.  "  I'll  be  thy  friend  if  thou'lt  let  me,  not  as 
lasses  are,  but  as  lads." 

And  so  the  friendship  was  ratified,  and  they  walked 
back  together  to  the  village.  When  he  came  to 
think  it  over,  Jack  was  inclined  to  repent  his  bar- 
gain, for  he  feared  that  she  would  attach  herself  to 
him,  and  that  he  would  have  much  laughter  to  en- 
dure and  many  battles  to  fight.  To  his  surprise 
Nelly  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  She  would  be  at  her 
door  every  morning  as  he  went  by  to  the  pit  and 
give  kim  a  nod,  and  again  as  he  returned.  When- 
ever other  girls  and  boys  were  playing  or  sitting  to- 
gether, Nelly  would  make  one  of  the  group.  If  he 
said,  as  he  often  did  say,  "  You,  Nell  Hardy,  come 
and  sit  by  me,"  she  came  gladly,  but  she  never 
claimed  the  place.  She  was  ready  to  come  or  to  go, 
to  run  messages  and  to  do  him  good  in  any  way. 


FRIENDSHIP.  69 

Jack  had  promised  she  should  be  his  friend  as 
Harry  was,  and  as  he  got  to  like  her  more  he  would 
ask  her  or  tell  her  to  accompany  them  in  their  walks, 
or  to  sit  on  a  low  wall  in  some  quiet  corner  and  talk. 
Harry,  stirred  by  his  friend's  example,  had  begun 
to  spend  half  an  hour  a  day  over  his  old  school- 
books. 

"  Why  dost  like  laming  so  much,  Jack  ?  "  Nelly 
asked  as  Jack  was  severely  reproaching  his  friend 
with  not  having  looked  at  a  book  for  some  days ; 
"  what  good  do  it  do  ?  " 

"  It  raises  folk  in  the  world,  Nell,  helps  'em  make 
their  way  up." 

"  And  dost  thou  mean  to  get  oop  i'  the  world  ?  " 

"  Ay,  lass,"  Jack  said,  "  if  hard  work  can  do  it,  I 
will ;  but  it  does  more  nor  that.  If  a  man  knows 
things  and  loves  reading  it  makes  him  different 
like  ;  he's  got  summat  to  think  about  and  talk  about  /' 
and  care  for  beside  public  houses  and  dorgs. 
Canst  read,  Nell  ? " 

"No,  Jack,"  she  said,  coloring.  "It  bain't  my 
fault ;  mother  never  had  the  pence  to  spare  for 
schooling,  and  I  was  kept  at  hoam  to  help." 

Jack  sat  thoughtful  for  some  time. 

"  Wouldst  like  to  learn  ?  " 

"  Ay." 

"  Well,  I'll  teach  thee." 

"  Oh,  Jack  1  "  and  she  leaped  up  with  flashing 
eyes ;  "  how  good  thou  be'est !  " 


fb  FACING  DEATH. 

"  Doan't,"  Jack  said  crossly ;  "  what  be  there 
good  in  teaching  a  lass  to  spell  ?  There's  twopence, 
run  down  to  the  corner  shop  and  buy  a  spelling- 
book  ;  we'll  begin  at  once." 

And  so  Nelly  had  her  first  lesson. 

After  that,  every  afternoon,  as  Jack  came  home 
from  work,  the  girl  would  meet  him  in  a  quiet  cor- 
ner off  the  general  line,  and  for  five  minutes  he 
would  teach  her,  not  hearing  her  say  what  she  had 
learned,  but  telling  her  fresh  sounds  and  combina- 
tions of  letters.  Five  or  six  times  he  would  go  over 
them,  and  expected — for  Jack  was  tyrannical  in  his 
•ways — that  she  would  carry  them  away  with  her 
and  learn  them  by  heart,  and  go  through  them 
again  and  again,  so  that  when  he  questioned  her 
during  their  longer  talks  she  would  be  perfect. 

Then,  the  five  minutes  over,  Jack  would  run  on 
to  make  up  for  lost  time,  and  be  in  as  soon  as  Bill 
Haden. 

But  however  accurately  Jack  expected  his  pupil 
to  learn,  his  expectations  were  surpassed.  The  girl 
beyond  clearing  up  the  room  had  nothing  to  do, 
and  she  devoted  herself  with  enthusiasm  to  this 
work.  Once  she  had  mastered  simple  words  and 
felt  her  own  progress,  her  shyness  as  to  her  igno- 
rance left  her.  She  always  carried  her  book  in  her 
pocket,  and  took  to  asking  girls  the  pronunciation 
of  larger  words,  and  begging  them  to  read  a  few 
lines  to  her;  and  sitting  on  the  doorstep  poring 


FRIENDSHIP.  /| 

over  her  book,  she  would  salute  any  passer-by  with  • 
"  Please  tell  us  what  is  that  word."  When  she 
could  read  easily,  which  she  learned  to  do  in  two 
or  three  months,  she  borrowed  left-off  school-books 
from  the  girls,  and  worked  slowly  on,  and  two  year? 
later  had  made  up  for  all  her  early  deficiencies,  and 
knew  as  much  as  any  of  those  who  had  passed 
through  the  school. 

From  the  day  of  her  compact  of  friendship  with 
Jack  her  appearance  and  demeanor  had  been  grad- 
ually changing.  From  the  first  her  wild,  unkempt 
hair  had  been  smoothly  combed  and  braided,  though 
none  but  herself  knew  what  hours  of  pain  and 
trouble  it  took  her  with  a  bit  of  a  comb  with  three 
teeth  alone  remaining,  to  reduce  the  tangled  mass 
of  hair  to  order. 

Her  companions  stared  indeed  with  wonder  on 
the  first  afternoon,  when,  thus  transformed  and  with 
clean  face,  she  came  among  them,  with  a  new  feel- 
ing of  shyness. 

"  Why,  it  be  Nelly  Hardy  1  "  «  Why  Nell,  what 
ha'  done  to  t'yself  ?  I  shouldn't  ha'  known  ye." 

"  Well,  ye  be  cleaned  up  surely." 

The  girl  was  half-inclined  to  flame  out  at  their 
greetings,  but  she  knew  that  the  surprise  was  nat- 
ural, and  laughed  good-humoredly.  She  was  re- 
warded for  her  pains  when  Jack  and  some  other 
boys  passing  on  their  way  to  play,  Jack  stopped  a 
moment  and  said  to  her  quietly,  "  Well  done,  lass, 


72  FACING  DEATH. 

thou  look'st  rarely  ;  who'd  ha'  thought  thou  wert  so 
comely !  " 

As  time  went  on  Nelly  Hardy  grew  altogether 
out  of  her  old  self.  Sometimes,  indeed,  bursts  of 
temper,  such  as  those  which  had  gained  her  the 
name  of  the  "  Wild  Cat,"  would  flare  out,  but  these 
were  very  rare  now.  She  was  still  very  poorly 
dressed,  for  her  home  was  as  wretched  as  of  old, 
but  there  was  an  attempt  at  tidiness.  .  Her  manner, 
too,  was  softer,  and  it  became  more  and  more  quiet 
as  things  went  on,  and  her  playmates  wondered 
again  and  again  what  had  come  over  Nell  Hardy  ; 
she  had  got  to  be  as  quiet  as  a  mouse. 

The  boys  at  first  were  disposed  to  joke  Jack  upon 
this  strange  friendship,  but  Jack  soon  let  it  be  un- 
derstood that  upon  that  subject  joking  was  unaccept- 
able. 

"  She  stood  by  me,"  he  said,  "  and  I'm  a-going 
to  stand  by  her.  She  ain't  got  no  friends,  and  I'm 
going  to  be  her  friend.  She's  quiet  enough  and 
doan't  bother,  no  more  nor  if  she  were  a  dorg. 
She  doan't  get  in  no  one's  way,  she  doan't  want  to 
play,  and  sits  quiet  and  looks  on,  so  if  any  of  you 
doan't  like  her  near  ye,  you  can  go  away  to  t'  other 
side  o'  field.  I  wish  she'd  been  a  boy,  'twould  ha' 
been  fitter  all  ways,  but  she  can't  help  that.  She's 
got  the  sense  o'  one,  and  the  pluck,  and  I  like  her. 
There  1" 


PROGRESS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PROGRESS. 

"  BLESS  me,  lad,  another  poond  o'  candles  I  I 
never  did  hear  o'  sich  waste,"  Mrs.  Haden  ex- 
claimed as  Jack  entered  the  cottage  on  a  winter's 
afternoon,  two  years  and  a  half  after  he  had  gone 
into  the  pit.  "  Another  poond  o'  candles,  and  it 
was  only  last  Monday  as  you  bought  the  last — nigh 
two  candles  a  night.  Thou  wilt  kill  thyself  sitting 
up  reading  o'  nights,  and  thy  eyes  will  sink  i'  thy 
head,  and  thou'lt  be  as  blind  as  a  bat  afore  thou'rt 
forty." 

"  I  only  read  up  to  eleven,  mother,  that  gives  me 
six  hours  abed,  and  as  thou  know,  six  for  a  man, 
seven  for  a  woman,  is  all  that  is  needful ;  and  as  to 
the  expense,  as  dad  lets  me  keep  all  my  earnings 
save  five  bob  a  week — and  very  good  o'  him  it  is ; 
I  doan't  know  no  man  in  the  pit  as  does  as  much — 
why,  I  ha'  plenty  o'  money  for  my  candles  and 
books,  and  to  lay  by  summat  for  a  rainy  day." 

"  Aye,  aye,  lad,  I  know  thou  be'st  not  wasteful 
save  in  candles ;  it's  thy  health  I  thinks  o'." 

"  Health  I  "  Jack  laughed  ;  "  why,  there  ain't  a 


74  FA  CING  £>£A  Tft. 

lad  in  the  pit  as  strong  as  I  am  of  my  age,  and  1 
ha'  never  ailed  a  day  yet,  and  doan't  mean  to." 

"What  ha'  ye  been  doing  all  the  arternoon, 
Jack?" 

"  I  ha'  been  sliding  in  the  big  pond  wi'  Harry 
Shepherd  and  a  lot  o'  others.  Then  Dick  Somers, 
he  knocked  down  Harry's  little  sister  Fan,  as  she 
came  running  across  th'  ice,  and  larfed  out  when  she 
cried — a  great  brute — so  I  licked  he  till  he  couldn't 
see  out  o'  his  eyes." 

"  He's  bigger  nor  thee,  too,"  Mrs.  Haden  said 
admiringly. 

"  Aye,  he's  bigger,"  Jack  said  carelessly,  "  but  he 
ain't  game,  Dick  ain't ;  loses  his  temper,  he  does, 
and  a  chap  as  does  that  when  he's  righting  ain't  o'  no 
account.  But  I  must  not  stand  a  clappeting  here ; 
it's  past  six,  and  six  is  my  time." 

"  Have  your  tea  first,  Jack,  it's  a'  ready ;  but  I  do 
believe  thou'dst  go  wi'out  eating  wi'out  noticing  it, 
when  thou'st  got  thy  books  in  thy  head." 

Jack  sat  down  and  drank  the  tea  his  mother 
poured  out  for  him,  and  devoured  bread  and  butter 
•with  a  zest  that  showed  that  his  appetite  was  unim- 
paired by  study.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  he 
caught  up  his  candle,  and  with  a  nod  to  Mrs.  Haden 
ran  up  stairs  to  his  room. 

Jack  Simpson's  craze  for  learning,  as  it  was  re- 
garded by  the  other  lads  of  Stokebridge,  was  the 
subject  of  much  joking  and  chaff  among  them.  Had 


PROGRESS.  75 

he  been  a  shy  and  retiring  boy,  holding  himself  aloof 
from  the  sports  of  his  mates,  ridicule  would  have 
taken  the  place  of  joking,  and  persecution  of  chaff. 
But  Jack  was  so  much  one  of  themselves,  a  leader 
in  their  games,  a  good  fellow  all  round,  equally 
ready  to  play  or  to  fight,  that  the  fact  that  after  six 
o'clock  he  shut  himself  up  in  his  room  and  studied 
was  regarded  as  something  in  the  nature  of  a  humor- 
ous joke. 

When  he  had  first  begun,  his  comrades  all  pre- 
dicted that  the  fit  would  not  last,  and  that  a  few 
weeks  would  see  the  end  of  it ;  but  weeks  and 
months  and  years  had  gone  by,  and  Jack  kept  on 
steadily  at  the  work  he  had  set  himself  to  do. 
Amusement  had  long  died  away,  and  there  grew  up 
an  unspoken  respect  for  their  comrade. 

"  He  be  a  rum  'un,  be  Jack,"  they  would  say ; 
"he  loves  games,  and  can  lick  any  chap  his  age 
anywhere  round,  and  yet  he  shoots  himself  oop  and 
reads  and  reads  hours  and  hours  every  day,  and  he 
knows  a  heap,  Bull-dog  does."  Not  that  Jack  was 
in  the  habit  of  parading  his  acquirements  ;  indeed 
he  took  the  greatest  pains  to  conceal  them  and  to 
show  that  in  no  respect  did  he  differ  from  his  play- 
fellows. 

The  two  hours  which  he  now  spent  twice  a  week 
with  Mr.  Merton,  and  his  extensive  reading,  had 
modified  his  rough  Staffordshire  dialect,  and  when 
with  his  master  he  spoke  correct  English  almost  f  re  2 


7  6  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

of  provincialisms,  although  with  his  comrades  of 
the  pit  he  spoke  as  they  spoke,  and  never  introduced 
any  allusion  to  his  studies.  All  questions  as  to  his 
object  in  spending  his  evenings  with  his  books  were 
turned  aside  with  joking  answers,  but  his  comrades 
had  accidentally  discovered  that  he  possessed  ex- 
traordinary powers  of  calculation.  One  of  the  lads 
had  vaguely  said  that  he  wondered  how  many 
buckets  of  water  there  were  in  the  canal  between 
Stokebridge  and  Birmingham,  a  distance  of  eighteen 
miles,  and  Jack,  without  seeming  to  think  of  what 
he  was  doing,  almost  instantaneously  gave  the  answer 
to  the  question.  For  a  moment  all  were  silent  with 
surprise. 

"  I  suppose  that  be  a  guess,  Jack,  eh  ? "  Fred  Orme 
asked. 

"  Noa,"  Jack  said,  "  that's  aboot  roight,  though  I 
be  sorry  I  said  it ;  I  joost  reckoned  it  in  my  head." 

"  But  how  didst  do  that,  Jack  ?  "  his  questioner 
asked,  astonished,  while  the  boys  standing  round 
stared  in  silent  wonder. 

"  Oh  1  in  my  head,"  Jack  said  carelessly ;  "  it  be 
easy  enough  to  reckon  in  your  head  if  you  practise; 
a  little." 

"And  canst  do  any  sum  in  thy  head,  Jack,  as 
quick  as  that  ?  " 

"  Not  any  sum,  but  anything  easy,  say  up  to  the 
multiplication  or  division  by  eight  figures^- 

"  Let's  try  him,"  one  boy  said, 


PROGRESS,  77 

"  All  right,  try  away,"  Jack  said.  "  Do  it  first  on 
a  bit  of  paper,  and  then  ask  me." 

The  boys  drew  off  in  a  body,  and  a  sum  was  fixed 
upon  and  worked  out  with  a  great  deal  of  discussion. 

At  last,  after  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  work,  when 
all  had  gone  through  it  and  agreed  that  it  was  cor- 
rect, they  returned  and  said  to  him,  "  Multiply  324,- 
683  by  459,852."  Jack  thought  for  a  few  seconds 
and  then  taking  the  pencil  and  paper  wrote  down 
the  answer:  149,306,126,916. 

"  Why,  Jack,  thou  be'est  a  conjurer,"  one  ex- 
claimed, while  the  others  broke  out  into  a  shout  of 
astonishment. 

From  that  time  it  became  an  acknowledged  fact 
that  Jack  Simpson  was  a  wonder,  and  that  there  was 
some  use  in  studying  after  all ;  and  after  their  games 
were  over  they  would  sit  round  and  ask  him  questions 
which  they  had  laboriously  prepared,  and  the  speed 
and  accuracy  of  his  answers  were  a  never-failing 
source  of  wonder  to  them. 

As  to  his  other  studies  they  never  inquired ;  it 
was  enough  for  them  that  he  could  do  this,  and 
the  fact  that  he  could  do  it  made  them  proud  of  him 
in  a  way,  and  when  put  upon  by  the  pitmen  it  became 
a  common  retort  among  them,  "  Don't  thou  talk, 
there's  Jack  Simpson,  he  knows  as  much  as  thee  and 
thy  mates  put  together.  Why,  he  can  do  a  soom  as 
long  as  a  slaate  as  quick  as  thou'd  ask  it." 

Jack  himself  laughed  at  his  calculating  powers, 


78  FACING  DEATH. 

and  told  the  boys  that  they  could  do  the  same  if 
they  would  practise  believing  what  he  said  ;  but  in 
point  of  fact  this  was  not  so,  for  the  lad  had  an  ex- 
traordinary natural  faculty  for  calculation,  and  his 
schoolmaster  was  often  astonished  by  the  rapidity 
with  which  he  could  prepare  in  his  brain  long  and 
complex  calculations,  and  that  in  a  space  of  time 
little  beyond  that  which  it  would  take  to  write  the 
question  upon  paper. 

So  abnormal  altogether  was  his  power  in  this 
respect  that  Mr.  Merton  begged  him  to  discontinue 
the  practise  of  difficult  calculation  when  at  work. 

"  It  is  a  bad  thing,  Jack,  to  give  undue  prominence 
to  one  description  of  mental  labor,  and  I  fear  that 
you  will  injure  your  brain  if  you  are  always  exercis- 
ing it  in  one  direction.  Therefore  when  in  the  pit 
think  over  other  subjects,  history,  geography,  what 
you  will,  but  leave  calculations  alone  except  when 
you  have  your  books  before  you." 


THE  CREA  T  STKJKE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   GREAT   STRIKE. 

IT  was  Saturday  afternoon,  a  time  at  which  Stoke* 
bridge  was  generally  lively.  The  men  (dinner  over, 
and  the  great  weekly  wash  done)  usually  crowded 
the  public-houses,  or  played  bowls  or  quoits  on  a 
piece  of  waste  land  known  as  "  the  common,"  or 
set  off  upon  a  spree  to  Birmingham  or  Wolver- 
hampton,  or  sat  on  low  walls  or  other  handy  seats, 
and  smoked  and  talked.  But  upon  this  special 
Saturday  afternoon  no  one  settled  down  to  his  or- 
dinary pursuits,  for  the  men  stood  talking  in  groups 
in  the  street,  until,  as  the  hour  of  four  approached, 
there  was  a  general  move  toward  the  common. 
Hither,  too,  came  numbers  of  men  from  the  colliery 
villages  round,  until  some  four  or  five  thousand  were 
gathered  in  front  of  an  old  "  waste  tip  "  at  one  cor- 
ner of  the  common.  Presently  a  group  of  some 
five  or  six  men  came  up  together,  made  their  way 
through  the  throng,  and  took  their  stand  on  the 
edge  of  the  tip,  some  twenty  feet  above  the  crowd. 
These  were  the  delegates,  the  men  sent  by  the  union 
to  persuade  the  colliers  of  Stokebridge  and  its 


So  FACTNG  DEATH. 

neighborhood  to  join  in  a  general  strike  for  a  rise 
of  wages. 

The  women  of  the  village  stand  at  their  doors, 
and  watch  the  men  go  off  to  the  meeting,  and  then 
comment  to  each  other  concerning  it. 

"  I  ain't  no  patience  wi'  'em,  Mrs.  Haden,"  said 
one  of  a  group  of  neighbors  who  had  gathered  in 
front  of  her  house ;  "  I  don't  hold  by  strikes.  I 
have  gone  through  three  of  'em,  bad  'uns,  besides  a 
score  of  small  'uns,  and  I  never  knowed  good  come 
on  'em,  I  lost  my  little  Peg  in  the  last — low  feverf 
the  doctor  called  it,  but  it  was  starvation  and  noth- 
ing more/' 

"  If  I  had  my  way,"  said  Mrs.  Haden,  "  I'd  just 
wring  the  heads  off  they  delegates.  They  come 
here  and  'suades  our  men  to  go  out  and  clem  rather 
than  take  a  shilling  a  week  less,  just  a  glass  o'  beer, 
a  day,  and  they  gets  their  pay  and  lives  in  comfort 
and  dunna  care  nowt  if  us  and  th'  childer  all  dies 
off  together." 

"  Talk  o'  woman's  rights,  as  one  hears  about,  and 
woman's  having  a  vote  ;  we  ought  to  have  a  vote  as 
to  strikes.  It's  us  as  bears  the  worse  o't,  and  we 
ought  to  have  a  say  on't ;  if  we  did  there  wouldn't 
be  another  strike  in  the  country." 

"It's  a  burning  shame,"  another  chimed  in; 
"here  us  and  the  childer  will  have  to  starve  for 
weeks,  months  maybe,  and  all  the  homes  will  be 
broke  up,  and  the  furniture,  which  has  took  so  long 


THE  ORE  A  T  STRIKE.  fct 

to  get  together,  put   away  just   because  the  men 
won't  do  with  one  glass  of  beer  less  a  day.'* 

"  The  union's  the  curse  of  us  a',"  Mrs.  Haden 
said.  "  I  know  what  it'll  be — fifteen  bob  a  week 
for  the  first  fortnight,  and  then  twelve  for  a  week, 
and  then  ten,  and  then  eight,  and  then  six,  and 
then  after  we've  clemmed  on  that  for  a  month  or 
two,  the  union'll  say  as  the  funds  is  dry,  and  the 
men  had  best  go  to  work  on  the  reduction.  I  knows 
their  ways,  and  they're  a  cuss  to  us  women." 

"  Here  be'st  thy  Jack.  He  grows  a  proper  lad 
that." 

"Aye,"  Jane  Haden  agreed,  "he's  a  good  lad, 
none  better;  and  as  for  learning,  the  books  that 
boys  knows  is  awesome ;  there's  shelves  upon  shelves 
on  'em  up-stairs,  and  I  do  believe  he's  read  'em  all 
a  dozen  times.  Well,  Jack,  have  'ee  cum  from 
meeting  ? " 

"  Aye,  mother ;  I  heard  them  talk  nonsense  till  I 
was  nigh  sick,  and  then  I  corned  away." 

"  And  will  they  go  for  the  strike,  Jack  ?  " 

"Aye,  they'll  go,  like  sheep  through  a  gate, 
There's  half  a  dozen  or  so  would  go  t'other  way, 
but  the  rest  won't  listen  to  them.  So  for  the  sake 
of  a  shilling  a  week  we're  going  to  lose  thirty  shil- 
lings a  week  for  perhaps  twenty  weeks ;  so  if  we 
win  we  shan't  get  the  money  we've  throw'd  away 
for  twenty  times  thirty  weeks,  mother,  and  that 
makes  eleven  years  and  twenty-eight  weeks." 
0 


8 a  FACING  DEATH. 

Jack  Simpson  was  now  sixteen  years  old,  not 
very  tall  lor  his  age,  but  square  and  set.  His  face 
Was  a  pleasant  one,  in  spite  of  his  closely-cropped 
hair.  He  had  a  bright,  fearless  eye  and  a  pleasant 
smile ;  but  the  square  chin,  and  the  firm,  determined 
lines  of  the  mouth  when  in  rest,  showed  that  his  old 
appellation  of  Bull-dog  still  suited  him  well.  After 
working  for  four  years  as  a  gate-boy  and  two  years 
with  the  wagons,  he  had  just  gone  in  to  work  with 
his  adopted  father  in  the  stall,  filling  the  coal  in  the 
wagon  as  it  was  got  down,  helping  to  drive  the 
wedges,  and  at  times  to  use  the  pick.  As  the  get- 
ters— as  the  colliers  working  at  bringing  down  the 
coal  are  called — are  paid  by  the  ton,  many  of  the 
men  have  a  strong  lad  working  with  them  as 
assistant. 

"  Is  t'  dad  like  to  be  at  home  soon,  Jack  ? " 
Mrs.  Haden  asked,  as  she  followed  him  into  the 
house. 

"  Not  he,  mother.  They  pretty  well  all  will  be 
getting  themselves  in  order  for  earning  nothing  by 
getting  drunk  to-night,  and  dad's  not  slack  at  that. 
Have  you  got  tea  ready,  mother  ?  " 

"Aye,  lad." 

"  I've  made  up  my  mind,  mother,"  the  boy  said,  as 
he  ate  his  slice  of  bacon  and  bread,  "  that  I  shall  go 
over  to  Birmingham  to-morrow,  and  try  to  get  woik 
there.  John  Ratcliff,  the  engineman,  is  going  to 
write  a  letter  for  me  to  some  mates  of  his  there. 


TffE  ORE  A  T  STRIKE.  83 

The  last  two  years,  when  I've  been  on  the  night 
shift.  I  have  gone  in.  and  helped  him  a  bit  pretty 
often  in  the  day,  so  as  to  get  to  know  something 
about  an  engine,  and  to  be  able  to  do  a  job  of 
smith's  work  ;  anyhow,  he  thinks  I  can  get  a  berth 
as  a  striker  or  something  of  that  sort.  I'd  rather  go 
at  once,  for  there  will  be  plenty  of  hands  looking 
out  for  a  job  before  long,  when  the  pinch  begins, 
and  I  don't  want  to  be  idle  here  at  home." 

"  They've  promised  to  give  some  sort  o'  allowance 
to  non-unionists,  Jack." 

"  Yes,  mother,  but  I'd  rather  earn  it  honestly. 
I'm  too  young  to  join  the  union  yet,  but  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  long  ago  never  to  do  it.  I  mean 
to  be  my  own  master,  and  I  ain't  going  to  be  told 
by  a  pack  of  fellows  at  Stafford  or  Birmingham 
whether  I  am  to  work  or  not,  and  how  much  I  am 
to  do,  and  how  many  tubs  I  am  to  fill.  No,  mother, 
I  wasn't  born  a  slave  that  I  know  of,  and  certainly 
don't  mean  to  become  one  voluntarily." 

"  Lor,  how  thou  dost  talk,  Jack  I  Who'd  take  'ee 
to  be  a  pitman  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  taken  for  anything  that  I  am 
not,  mother.  What  with  reading  and  with  going 
two  hours  twice  a  week  of  an  evening  for  six  years, 
to  talk  and  work  with  Mr.  Merton,  I  hope  I  can  ex- 
press myself  properly  when  I  choose.  As  you 
know,  when  I'm  away  from  you  I  talk  as  others  do, 
for  I  hate  any  one  to  make  remarks.  If  the  time. 


84  FACING  DEATH. 

ever  comes  when  I  am  to  take  a  step  up,  it  will  be 
time  enough  for  them  to  talk ;  at  present,  all  that  the 
other  lads  think  of  me  is,  that  I  am  fond  of  reading, 
and  that  I  can  lick  any  fellow  of  my  own  age  in  the 
mine,"  and  he  laughed  lightly.  "  And  now,  mother, 
I  shall  go  in  and  tell  Mr.  Merton  what  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  do." 

Mr.  Merton  listened  to  Jack's  report  of  his  plans 
in  silence,  and  then  after  a  long  pause  said : 

"  I  have  been  for  some  time  intending  to  talk 
seriously  to  you,  Jack,  about  your  future,  and  the 
present  is  a  good  time  for  broaching  the  subject. 
You  see,  my  boy,  you  have  worked  very  hard,  and 
have  thrown  your  whole  strength  into  it  for  six 
years.  You  have  given  no  time  to  the  classics  or 
modern  languages,  but  have  put  your  whole  heart 
into  mathematics ;  you  have  a  natural  talent  for  it, 
and  you  have  had  the  advantage  of  a  good  teacher. 
I  may  say  so,"  he  said,  "  for  I  was  third  wrangler 
at  Cambridge." 

"  You,  sir  I  "  Jack  exclaimed  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  lad,  you  may  well  be  surprised  at  seeing 
a  third  wrangler  a  village  schoolmaster,  but  you 
might  find,  if  you  searched,  many  men  who  took  as 
high  a  degree,  in  even  more  humble  positions.  I 
took  a  fellowship,  and  lived  for  many  years  quietly 
upon  it ;  then  I  married,  and  forfeited  my  fellow- 
ship. I  thought,  like  many  other  men,  that  because 
I  had  taken  a  good  degree  I  could  earn  my  living, 


THE  CREA  T  STRIKE.  85 

There  is  no  greater  mistake.  I  had  absolutely  no 
knowledge  that  was  useful  that  way.  I  tried  to 
write ;  I  tried  to  get  pupils  ;  I  failed  all  round. 
Thirteen  years  ago,  after  two  years  of  marriage,  my 
wife  died  ;  and  in  despair  of  otherwise  earning  my 
bread,  and  sick  of  the  struggle  I  had  gone  through, 
I  applied  for  this  little  mastership,  obtained  it,  and 
came  down  with  Alice,  then  a  baby  of  a  year  old.  I 
chafed  at  first,  but  I  am  contented  now,  and  no  one 
knows  that  Mr.  Merton  is  an  ex-fellow  of  St.  John's. 
I  had  still  a  little  property  remaining,  just  enough 
to  have  kept  Alice  always  at  a  good  school.  I  do 
not  think  I  shall  stay  here  much  longer.  I  shall  try 
to  get  a  larger  school,  in  some  town  where  I  may 
find  a  few  young  men  to  teach  of  an  evening.  I 
am  content  for  myself ;  but  Alice  is  growing  up, 
and  I  should  wish,  for  her  sake,  to  get  a  step  up  in 
the  world  again.  I  need  not  say,  my  lad,  that  I 
don't  want  this  mentioned.  Alice  and  you  alone 
know  my  story.  So  you  see,"  he  went  on  more 
lightly,  "  I  may  say  you  have  had  a  good  teacher. 
Now,  Jack  you  are  very  high  up  in  mathematics. 
Far  higher  than  I  was  at  your  age,  and  I  have  not 
the  slightest  doubt  that  you  will  in  a  couple  of  years 
be  able  to  take  the  best  open  scholarship  of  the 
year  at  Cambridge,  if  you  try  for  it.  That  would 
keep  you  at  college,  and  you  might  hope  confidently 
to  come  out  at  least  as  high  as  I  did,  and  to  secure 
a  fellowship,  which  means  three  or  four  hun- 


86  FACING  DEATH. 

dred  a  year,  till  you  marry.  But  to  go  through 
the  university  you  must  have  a  certain  amount  of 
Latin  and  Greek.  You  have  a  good  two  years,  be- 
fore you  have  to  go  up,  and  if  you  devote  yourself 
as  steadily  to  classics  as  you  have  to  mathematics, 
you  could  get  up  enough  to  scrape  through  with. 
Don't  give  me  any  answer  now,  Jack.  The  idea 
is,  of  course,  new  to  you.  Think  it  very  quietly 
over,  and  we  can  talk  about  it  next  time  you  come 
over  from  Birmingham." 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  you  very  much,"  Jack  said 
quietly  ;  "  only,  please  tell  me,  do  you  yourself  rec- 
ommend it  ? " 

The  schoolmaster  was  silent  for  a  while. 

"  I  do  not  recommend  one  way  or  the  other,  Jack, 
I  would  rather  leave  it  entirely  to  you.  You  would 
be  certain  to  do  well  in  one  way  there.  You  are, 
I  believe,  equally  certain  to  do  well  here,  but  youi 
advance  may  be  very  much  slower.  And  now, 
Jack,  let  us  lay  it  aside  for  to-night.  I  am  just  go- 
ing to  have  tea ;  I  hope  you  will  take  a  cup  with 
us." 

Jack  colored  with  pleasure.  It  was  the  first  time 
that  such  an  invitation  had  been  given  to  him,  and 
he  felt  it  as  the  first  recognition  yet  made  that  he 
was  something  more  than  an  ordinary  pit  boy  ;  but 
for  all  that  he  felt,  when  he  followed  his  master 
into  the  next  room,  that  he  would  have  rather  been 
Anywhere  else. 


THE  GREAT  STRIKE.  87 

It  was  a  tiny  room,  but  daintily  furnished — a  room 
such  as  Jack  had  never  seen  before ;  and  by  the  fire 
sat  a  girl  reading.  She  put  down  her  book  as  her 
father  entered  with  a  bright  smile  ;  but  her  eyes 
opened  a  little  wider  in  surprise  as  Jack  followed 
him  in. 

"  My  dear  Alice,  this  is  my  pupil,  Jack  Simpson, 
who  is  going  to  do  me  great  credit,  and  make  a  fig- 
ure in  the  world  some  day.  Jack,  this  is  my  daugh- 
ter, Miss  Merton." 

Alice  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  have  heard  papa  speak  of  you  so  often,'*  she 
said,  "  and  of  course  I  have  seen  you  come  in  and 
out  sometimes  when  I  have  been  home  for  the  holi- 
days." 

"  I  have  seen  you  in  church,"  Jack  said,  making 
a  tremendous  effort  to  shake  off  his  awkwardness. 

Jack  Simpson  will  to  the  end  of  his  life  look  back 
upon  that  hour  as  the  most  uncomfortable  he  ever 
spent.  Then  for  the  first  time  he  discovered  that 
his  boots  were  very  heavy  and  thick ;  then  for  the 
first  time  did  his  hands  and  feet  seem  to  get  in  his 
way,  and  to  require  thought  as  to  what  was  to  be 
done  with  them  ;  and  at  the  time  he  concluded  that 
white  lace  curtains,  and  a  pretty  carpet,  and  tea 
poured  out  by  a  chatty  and  decidedly  pretty  young 
lady,  were  by  no  means  such  comfortable  institu- 
tions as  might  have  been  expected. 

It  was  two  months  from  the  commencement  of 


DEAftt. 

the  strike  before  Jack  Simpson  returned  truiri  Bir- 
mingham, coming  home  to  stay  from  Saturday  till 
Monday.  Nothing  can  be  more  discouraging  than 
the  appearance  of  a  colliery  village  where  the  hands 
are  on  strike.  For  the  first  week  of  two  there  is 
much  bravado,  and  anticipation  of  early  victory; 
and  as  money  is  still  plentiful,  the  public  houses  do 
a  great  trade.  But  as  the  stern  reality  of  the 
struggle  becomes  felt,  a  gloom  falls  over  the  place. 
The  men  hang  about  listlessly,  and  from  time  to 
time  straggle  down  to  the  committee-room  to  hear 
the  last  news  from  the  other  places  to  which  the 
strike  extends,  and  to  try  to  gather  a  little  confidence 
therefrom.  At  first  things  always  look  well. 
Meetings  are  held  in  other  centers,  and  promises  of 
support  flow  in.  For  a  time  money  arrives  freely, 
and  the  union  committee  make  an  allowance  to  each 
member,  which,  far  below  his  regular  pay  as  it  is,  is 
still  amply  sufficient  for  his  absolute  wants.  But 
by  the  end  of  two  months  the  enthusiasm  which  the 
strike  excited  elsewhere  dies  out,  the  levies  fall  off 
and  the  weekly  money  scarce  enables  life  to  be  kept 
together. 

It  is  distinctive  of  almost  all  strikes  that  the 
women,  beforehand  averse  to  the  movement,  when 
it  has  once  begun,  throw  themselves  heartily  into 
the  struggle.  From  the  time  it  is  fairly  entered 
upon  until  its  termination  it  is  rare  indeed  to  hear 
a  collier's  wife  speak  a  word  against  it.  When  the 


THE  GREAT  STRIKE.  89 

hardest  pinch  comes,  and  the  children's  faces  grow 
thin  and  white,  and  the  rooms  are  stripped  of  fur-  / 
niture,  much  as  the  women  may  long  for  an  end  of 
it,  they  never  grumble,  never  pray  their  husbands 
to  give  in.  This  patient  submission  to  their  hus- 
bands' wills — this  silent  bearing  of  the  greatest  of 
suffering,  namely,  to  see  children  suffer  and  to  be 
unable  to  relieve  them — is  one  of  the  most  marked 
features  of  all  great  strikes  in  the  coal  districts. 

"  Well,  mother,  and  how  goes  it  ?  "  Jack  asked 
cheerfully  after  the  first  greetings. 

"  We  be  all  right,  Jack  ;  if  we  ain't  we  ought  to 
be,  when  we've  got  no  children  to  keep,  and  get 
nigh  as  much  as  them  as  has." 

"  Eight  shillings  a  week  now,  ain't  it  ? " 

Mrs.  Haden  nodded.     Jack  looked  round. 

'«  Halloo  1  "  he  said, "  the  clock's  gone,  and  the  new 
earpet 1 " 

"  Well,  you  see,  my  boy,"  Mrs.  Haden  said  hesi- 
tatingly, "  Bill  is  downhearted  sometimes,  and  he 
wants  a  drop  of  comfort." 

"  I  understand,"  Jack  said  significantly. 

"  Jack,"  and  she  again  spoke  hesitatingly — "  I 
wish  ee'd  carry  off  all  they  books  out  o'  thy  little  room. 
There's  scores  of  'em,  and  the  smallest  would  fetch 
a  glass  o'  beer.  I've  kept  the  door  locked,  but  it 
might  tempt  him,  my  boy — not  when  he's  in  his 
right  senses,  you  know ;  he'd  scorn  to  do  such  a 
thing ;  but  when  he  gets  half  on,  and  has  no  more 


90  FA  CING  DBA  Tff. 

money,  and  credit  stopped,  the  craving's  too  much 
for  him,  and  he'd  sell  the  bed  from  under  him — any- 
thing he's  got,  I  do  believe,  except  his  pups ;  "  and 
she  pointed  to  some  of  Juno's  great-grandchildren 
which  were,  as  usual,  lying  before  the  fire,  a  mere 
handful  of  coal  now,  in  comparison  with  past  times. 

"  I'll  pick  out  a  parcel  of  them  that  will  be  useful 
to  me,"  Jack  said,  "  and  take  them  away.  The  rest 
may  go.  And  now  look  here,  mother.  After  pay- 
ing you  for  my  board,  I  have  had  for  a  long  time 
now  some  eight  shillings  a  week  over.  I  have  spent 
some  in  books,  but  second-hand  books  are  very  cheap 
— as  dad  will  find  when  he  tries  to  sell  them.  So 
I've  got  some  money  put  by.  It  don't  matter  how 
much,  but  plenty  to  keep  the  wolf  away  while  the 
strike  lasts.  But  I  don't  mean,  mother,  to  have  my 
savings  drunk  away.  I'm  getting  sixteen  bob  a 
week,  and  I  can  live  on  ten  or  eleven,  so  I'll  send 
you  five  shillings  a  week.  But  dad  mustn't  know  it. 
I'll  be  home  in  a  month  again,  and  I'll  leave  you  a 
pound,  so  that  you  can  get  food  in.  If  he  thinks 
about  it  at  all,  which  ain't  likely,  you  can  make  out 
you  get  it  on  tick.  Well,  dad,  how  are  you  ?  "  he 
asked,  as  Bill  Haden  entered  the  cottage. 

"  Ah,  Jack,  lad,  how  be  it  with  'ee  ? " 

"  All  right,  dad  ;  getting  on  well.  And  how  are 
things  here  ? " 

"  Bad,  Jack.  Those  scoundrels,  the  masters,  they 
won't  give  in ;  but  we're  bound  to  beat  'em — bound. 


THE  ORE  A  T  STRIKE.  91 

to.  If  they  don't  come  to  our  terms  we  mean  to 
call  the  enginemen,  and  the  hands  they've  got  to 
keep  the  ways  clear,  out  of  the  pits.  That'll  bring 
'em  to  their  senses  quick  enough.  I've  been  for  it 
all  long." 

"  Call  off  the  engine-hands  I  "  Jack  said,  in  tones 
of  alarm  ;  "you  ain't  going  to  do  such  a  mad  thing 
as  that  I  Why,  if  the  water  gains,  and  the  mines  get 
flooded,  it'll  be  weeks,  and  maybe  months,  before 
the  mines  can  be  cleared  and  put  in  working  order ; 
and  what  will  you  all  be  doing  while  that's  being 
done  ? " 

"  It'll  bring  'em  to  their  senses,  lad,"  Bill  Haden 
said,  bringing  his  hand  down  on  the  table  with  a 
thump.  "  They  mean  to  starve  us ;  we'll  ruin  them. 
There,  let's  have  the  price  of  a  quart,  Jack;  I'm 
dry." 

Jack  saw  that  argument  against  this  mad  scheme 
would  be  of  no  use,  for  his  foster-father  was  already 
half-drunk,  so  he  handed  him  a  shilling,  and  with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders  walked  off  to  Mr.  Merton's. 

He  had  long  since  written  to  his  master,  saying 
that  he  preferred  working  his  way  up  slowly  in 
mining,  to  entering  upon  a  new  life,  in  which,  how- 
ever successful  he  might  be  at  college,  the  after 
course  was  not  clear  to  him ;  and  his  teacher  had 
answered  in  a  tone  of  approval  of  his  choice. 

On  his  way  he  stopped  at  the  houses  of  many  oi 
his  boy  friends,  and  was  shocked  at  the  misery 


92  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

which  already  prevailed  in  some  of  them.  Harry 
Shepherd's  home  was  no  better  than  the  others. 

"  Why,  Harry,  I  should  scarce  have  known  you," 
he  said,  as  the  lad  came  to  the  door  when  he  opened 
it  and  called  him.  "  You  look  bad,  surely." 

"  We're  a  big  family,  Jack ;  and  the  extra  chil- 
dren's allowance  was  dropped  last  week.  There's 
eight  of  us,  and  food's  scarce.  Little  Annie's  going 
fast,  I  think.  The  doctor  came  this  morning,  and 
said  she  wanted  strengthening  food.  He  might  as 
well  ha'  ordered  her  a  coach-and-four.  Baby  died 
Jast  week,  and  mother's  ailing.  You  were  right, 
Jack;  what  fools  we  were  to  strike!  I've  been 
miles  round  looking  for  a  job,  but  it's  no  use ; 
there's  fifty  asking  for  every  place  open." 

The  tears  came  into  Jack's  eyes  as  he  looked  at 
the  pinched  face  of  his  friend. 

"  Why  did  you  not  write  to  me  ?  "  he  asked,  almost 
angrily.  "  I  told  you  where  a  letter  would  find  me ; 
and  here  are  you  all  clemming,  and  me  know  naught 
of  it.  It's  too  bad.  Now  look  here,  Harry,  I  must 
lend  you  some  money — you  know  I've  got  some  put 
by,  and  you  and  your  father  can  pay  me  when  good 
times  come  again.  Your  dad  gets  his  eight  shillings 
from  the  union,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  the  lad  answered. 

"  Well,  with  fifteen  shillings  a  week  you  could 
make  a  shift  to  get  on.  So  I'll  send  you  ten  shillings 
a  week  for  a  bit ;  that'll  be  seven  shillings  to  add  to 


THE  GREAT  STRIKE.  93 

the  eight,  and.  the  other  three  will  get  meat  to  make 
broth  for  Annie.  The  strike  can't  last  much  over 
another  month,  and  that  won't  hurt  me  one  way  or 
the  other.  Here's  the  first  ten  shillings  ;  put  it  in 
your  pocket,  and  then  come  round  with  me  to  the 
butcher  and  I'll  get  a  few  pounds  of  meat  just  to 
start  you  all.  There,  don't  cry,  and  don't  say  any- 
thing, else  I'll  lick  you." 

But  when  Jack  himself  entered  the  schoolmaster's 
house,  and  was  alone  with  Mr.  Merton,  he  threw 
himself  in  a  chair  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  It  is  awful,  sir,  awful.  To  see  those  little  chil- 
dren, who  were  so  noisy  and  bright  when  I  went 
away,  so  pale,  and  thin,  and  quiet  now.  Poor  little 
things  1  poor  little  things  1  As  to  the  men,  they  are 
starving  because  they  don't  choose  to  work,  and  if 
they  like  it,  let  them ;  even  the  women  I  don't  pity 
so  much,  for  if  they  did  right  they  would  take  broom- 
sticks and  drive  the  men  to  work ;  but  the  children, 
it's  dreadful !  " 

"  It  is  dreadful,  Jack,  and  it  makes  me  feel  sick 
and  ill  when  I  go  into  the  infant-school.  The 
clergyman's  wife  has  opened  a  sort  of  soup-kitchen, 
and  a  hundred  children  get  a  bowl  of  soup  and  a 
piece  of  bread  at  dinner-time  every  day,  and  they 
sell  soup  under  cost  price  to  the.  women.  Mr. 
Brook  has  given  fifty  pounds  toward  it." 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  Jack  said  ;  "  you  know  I've 
over  fifty  pounds  laid  by — and  money  can't  be  better 


94  FACING  DEATH. 

spent  than  for  the  children.  The  strike  can't  last 
over  a  month,  or  six  weeks  at  the  outside,  and  may- 
be not  that.  I'll  give  you  three  pounds  a  week,  if 
you  will  kindly  hand  it  over  to  Mrs.  Street,  and  say 
it's  been  sent  you.  But  it's  to  go  to  feeding  children. 
Let  me  see  ;  the  soup  don't  cost  above  a  penny  a 
bowl,  and  say  a  halfpenny  for  a  hunch  of  bread.  So 
that  will  give  a  good  many  of  'em  a  dinner  every 
day.  Will  you  do  that  for  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  will,  my  boy,"  Mr.  Merton  said  heartily. 
"  You  may  save  many  a  young  life." 

"  Well,  sir,  and  what  do  you  think  of  things  ?  " 

"  I  fear  we  shall  have  trouble,  Jack.  Last  night 
there  was  rioting  over  at  Crawfurd ;  a  manager's 
house  was  burned  down,  and  some  policemen  badly 
hurt.  There  is  angry  talk  all  over  the  district,  and 
I  fear  we  shall  have  it  here." 

When  Jack  started  on  Sunday  evening  for  Bir- 
mingham, bis  last  words  to  his  mother  were : 

"Mind,  mother,  the  very  first  word  you  hear 
about  violence  or  assault,  you  post  this  envelope  I 
have  directed,  to  me.  I  will  come  straight  back. 
I'll  keep  father  out  of  it  somehow ;  and  I'll  do  all  I 
can  to  save  Mr.  Brook's  property.  He's  a  good 
master,  and  he's  been  specially  kind  to  me,  and  I 
yron't  have  him  or  his  property  injured." 

"  Why,  lauk  a'  mercy,  Jack,  you  ain't  going  to 
fight  the  whole  place  all  by  yourself,  are  you  now  ?  " 

"  \  don't  knpw  what  I  am  going  to  do  yet,"  Jack 


THE  GREAT  STRIKE.  $§ 

said ;  "  but  you  may  be  quite  sure  I  shall  do  some- 
thing." 

And  as  his  mother  looked  at  the  set  bull-dog  ex- 
pression of  his  mouth  and  jaw,  she  felt  that  Jack 
was  thoroughly  in  earnest. 


FACING  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  X. 

HARD   TIMES. 

IT  was  when  the  pinch  came,  the  subscriptions 
fell  off,  and  the  weekly  payments  by  the  union 
dwindled  to  a  few  shillings  for  the  support  of  a 
whole  family,  that  the  rough  virtues  of  the  people 
of  the  mining  districts  came  strongly  into  promi- 
nence. Starvation  was  doing  its  work,  and  it  told 
first  upon  the  women  and  children.  Little  faces, 
awhile  since  so  rosy  and  bright,  grew  thin  and 
pinched,  chubby  arms  shrank  until  the  bone  could 
almost  be  seen  through  the  skin,  and  low  fever,  a 
sure  accompaniment  of  want,  made  its  appearance. 

No  more  tender  and  devoted  nurses  could  be 
found  than  the  rough  women,  who  hushed  their 
voices,  and  stole  with  quiet  feet  around  the  little 
beds,  letting  fall  many  a  silent  tear  when  the  suf- 
ferer asked  for  little  things,  for  tea  or  lemonade, 
which  there  were  no  means  to  purchase,  or  when 
the  doctor  shook  his  head  and  said  that  good  food 
and  not  medicine  was  needed. 

The  pitmen  themselves  would  saunter  aimlessly 
In  and  out  of  the  houses,  so  changed  from  the  cot- 
tages well  stocked  with  furniture,  with  gay-colored 


&ARD  TIMES.  97 

pictures  on  the  wall,  an  eight-day  clock,  and  many 
another  little  valuable,  and  all  gone  one  after  an- 
other. Very  many  of  them  lived  upon  the  scantiest 
allowance  of  dry  bread  which  would  keep  life  to- 
gether, in  order  that  the  allowance  might  all  go  for 
the  children,  retaining  as  their  sole  luxury  a  penny 
or  two  a  week  for  the  purchase  of  a  pipe  or  two  of 
tobacco  daily.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  soup- 
kitchen  scores  of  children  would  have  died,  but  the 
pint  of  soup  and  the  slice  of  bread  enabled  them  to 
live. 

There  was  no  talk  of  surrender  yet,  although  com- 
promises, which  would  at  first  have  been  indig- 
nantly rejected,  were  now  discussed,  and  a  deputa- 
tion had  waited  upon  Mr.  Brook,  but  the  owner 
refused  to  enter  into  any  compromise. 

"  No,  never,"  he  said ;  "  you  have  chosen  to  join 
the  hands  of  the  other  pits  in  an  endeavor  to  force 
your  employers  into  giving  you  a  higher  rate  of 
wages  than  they  can  afford  to  pay.  I,  therefore, 
have  joined  the  other  employers.  We  know,  what 
you  cannot  know,  what  are  our  expenses,  and  what 
we  can  afford  to  pay ;  and  we  will  accept  no  dicta- 
tion whatever  from  the  men  as  to  their  rate  of 
wages.  If  I  prefer,  as  I  do  prefer,  that  the  colliery 
should  stand  idle,  to  raising  your  rate  of  wages,  it 
is  a  clear  proof  that  I  should  lose  money  if  I  agreed 
to  your  demand.  If  needs  be  I  would  rather  that 
the  pit  was  closed  for  a  year,  or  for  ten  years.  We 
7 


$8 

have  bound  ourselves  together  to  make  no  advance, 
just  as  you  have  bound  yourselves  not  tc  go  to 
work  at  the  old  rate.  When  you  choose  to  go  in  at 
that  rate  there  are  your  places  ready  for  you,  but 
I  will  give  way  in  no  single  point,  I  will  not  pay  a 
half-penny  a  ton  more  than  before.  You  best  know 
how  long  you  can  hold  out.  Don't  let  it  be  too 
long,  lads,  for  the  sake  of  your  wives  and  children ; 
remember  that  the  time  may  come,  when,  thinking 
over  some  empty  chair,  recalling  some  little  face 
you  will  never  see  again,  you  will  curse  your  folly 
and  obstinacy  in  ruining  your  homes,  and  destroy- 
ing those  dependent  upon  you  in  a  struggle  in  which 
it  was  from  the  first  certain  that  you  could  not  win, 
and  in  which,  even  if  you  won,  the  amount  at  stake 
is  not  worth  one  day  of  the  suffering  which  you  are 
inflicting  upon  those  you  love." 

Left  to  themselves  the  men  would  have  much 
sooner  given  in,  would  indeed  never  have  embarked 
on  the  strike,  but  the  influence  of  the  union  being 
over  them,  they  feared  to  be  called  "  black  sheep," 
and  to  be  taunted  with  deserting  the  general  cause, 
and  so  the  strike  went  on. 

The  tale  of  the  suffering  over  the  wide  district 
affected  by  the  strike  was  told  through  the  land, 
and  the  subscriptions  of  the  benevolent  flowed  in. 
Public  opinion  was,  however,  strongly  opposed  to 
the  strike,  and  for  the  most  part  the  money  was 
subscribed  wholly  for  ^oup-kitchens,  for  children. 


HARD  TIMES.  99 

and  for  relief  of  the  sick.  But  the  area  was  wide, 
there  wen1,  scores  of  villages  as  badly  off  as  Stoke- 
bridge,  an.  I  the  share  of  each  of  the  general  fund 
was  very  small.  A  local  committee  was  formed,  of 
which  the  v'car  was  at  the  head,  for  the  management 
of  the  funds,  and  for  organizing  a  body  of  nurses. 
All  the  womet'  who  had  no  children  of  their  own 
were  enrolled  \  pon  its  lists,  and  many  of  the  girls  of 
the  sewing-cla^s  volunteered  their  services. 

No  one  during  this  sad  time  devoted  herself  more 
untiringly  and  devotedly  than  Nelly  Hardy.  The 
quiet  manner,  the  steady  and  resolute  face,  rendered 
her  an  excellent  nurse,  and  as  her  father  and  mother 
were,  perforce,  sober,  she  could  devote  her  whole 
time  to  the  work.  A  portion  of  the  funds  was 
devoted  to  the  preparation  of  the  articles  of  food 
and  drink  necessary  for  the  sick,  and  the  kitchen  of 
the  schoolroom  was  freely  employed  in  making 
milk-puddings,  barley-water,  and  other  things  which 
brought  pleasure  and  alleviation  to  the  parched  little 
lips  for  which  they  were  intended. 

The  distress  grew  daily  more  intense.  The  small 
traders  could  no  longer  give  credit;  the  pawn- 
brokers were  so  overburdened  with  household 
goods  that  they  were  obliged  absolutely  to  decline 
to  receive  more ;  the  doctors  were  worn  out  with 
work ;  the  guardians  of  the  poor  were  nearly  beside 
themselves  in  their  efforts  to  face  the  frightful 
distress  prevailing ;  and  the  charitable  committee; 


100  FACING  DEATH. 

aided  as  they  were  by  subscriptions  from  without, 
could  still  do  but  little  in  comparison  to  the  great 
need.  Jane  Haclen  and  the  other  women  without 
families  did  their  best  to  help  nurse  in  the  houses 
where  sickness  was  rife.  The  children  were  mere 
shadows,  and  the  men  and  women,  although  far  less 
reduced,  were  yet  worn  and  wasted  by  want  of  food. 
And  still  the  strike  went  on,  still  the  men  held  out 
against  the  reduction.  Some  of  the  masters  had 
brought  men  from  other  parts,  and  these  had  to 
be  guarded  to  and  from  their  work  by  strong  bodies 
of  police,  and  several  serious  encounters  had  taken 
place.  Some  of  the  hands  were  wavering  now,  but 
the  party  of  resistance  grew  more  and  more  violent, 
and  the  waverers  dared  not  raise  their  voices.  The 
delegates  of  the  union  went  about  holding  meetingSi 
and  assuring  their  hearers  that  the  masters  were  on 
the  point  of  being  beaten,  and  must  give  way ;  but 
they  were  listened  to  in  sullen  and  gloomy  silence 
by  the  men.  Then  came  muttered  threats  and  secret 
gatherings ;  and  then  Jane  Haden,  obedient  to  her 
promise,  but  very  doubtful  as  to  its  wisdom,  posted 
the  letter  Jack  had  left  with  her. 

It  was  three  o'clock  next  day  before  he  arrived, 
for  he  had  not  received  the  letter  until  he  went  out 
for  his  breakfast,  and  he  had  to  go  back  to  his  work 
and  ask  to  be  allowed  to  go  away  for  the  afternoon 
on  particular  business,  for  which  he  was  wanted  at 


HARD  TIMES.  I0t 

"  Well,  mother,  what  is  it  ?  "  was  his  first  question 
on  entering. 

"  I  oughtn't  to  tell  'ee,  Jack,  and  I  do  believe  BUI 
would  kill  me  if  he  knew." 

"  He  won't  know,  mother,  and  you  must  tell  me,w 
Jack  said  quietly. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  yesterday  afternoon  Bill  came  in 
here  with  eight  or  ten  others.  I  were  upstairs,  but 
I  suppose  they  thought  I  were  out,  and  as  I  did  not 
want  to  disturb  'em,  and  was  pretty  nigh  worn  out 
— I  had  been  up  three  nights  with  Betsy  Mullin's 
girl — I  sat  down  and  nigh  dozed  off.  The  door  was 
open,  and  I  could  hear  what  they  said  down-stairs 
when  they  spoke  loud.  At  first  they  talked  low,  and 
I  didn't  heed  what  they  were  saying ;  then  I  heard 
a  word  or  two  which  frighted  me,  and  then  I  got  up 
and  went  quiet  to  my  door  and  listened.  Jack,  they 
are  going  to  wreck  the  engines,  so  as  to  stop  the 
pumping  and  drown  the  mines.  They  are  going  to 
do  for  the  '  Vaughan,'  and  the  '  Hill  Side,'  and 
1  Thorns,'  and  the  «  Little  Shaft,'  and  « Vale.'  It's 
to  be  done  to-night,  and  they  begin  with  the 
'Vaughan'  at  ten  o'clock,  cause  it's  closest,  I 
suppose." 

"  They  are  mad,"  Jack  said  sternly.  "  How  are 
they  to  earn  bread  if  they  flood  the  mines  ?  And  it 
will  end  by  a  lot  of  them  being  sent  to  jail  for  years. 
But  I'll  stop  it  if  it  costs  me  my  life." 

"Oh  Jackl   don't  'ee  do  anything  rash,"  Mrs. 


10*  FACING  DEATH. 

Haden  said  piteously.  "  What  can  onp  )ad  do 
against  two  or  three  hundred  men  ?  " 

"  Now,  mother,"  Jack  said  promptly,  not  heeding 
her  appeal,  "  what  police  are  there  within  reach  ? " 

"  The  police  were  all  sent  away  yesterday  to 
Bampton.  There  were  riots  there,  I  heard  say. 
That's  why  they  chose  to-night." 

"  Now  the  first  thing,  mother,  is  to  prevent  dad 
from  going  out  to-night.  He  must  be  kept  out  of 
it,  whatever  others  do.  I've  brought  a  bottle  of  gin 
from  Birmingham.  Tell  him  I've  come  over  for  an 
hour  or  two  to  see  schoolmaster,  and  I'm  going  back 
again  afterward,  but  I've  brought  him  this  as  a 
present.  Get  the  cork  out;  he's  sure  to  drink  a 
glass  or  two  anyhow,  perhaps  more,  but  it  will  send 
him  off  to  sleep,  sure  enough.  It's  the  strongest  I 
could  get,  and  he's  out  of  the  way  of  drink  now.  I 
don't  suppose  they'll  miss  him  when  they  start ;  but 
if  any  one  comes  round  for  him,  you  tell  'em  I 
brought  him  some  Old  Tom  over,  and  that  he's  so 
dead  sleepy  he  can't  move.  Later  on,  if  you  can, 
get  some  woman  or  child  to  come  in,  and  let  them 
see  him,  so  that  there'll  be  a  witness  he  was  at 
home  when  the  thing  came  off ;  that'll  make  him  safe. 
I've  thought  it  all  over." 

"  But  what  be'est  thou  going  to  do,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Don't  mind  me,  mother.  I'm  going  to  save  the 
Vaughan  colliery.  Don't  you  fret  about  me ;  all 
you've  got  to  do  is  to  make  dad  drink,  which  ain't 


HARD  TIMES.  103 

a  difficult  job,  and  to  stick  to  the  story  that  I  have 
been  over  for  an  hour  to  see  schoolmaster.  Good- 
by,  mother.  Don't  fret ;  it  will  all  come  out  right." 

As  Jack  went  down  the  street  he  tapped  at  the 
door  of  his  friend's  house. 

« Is  Harry  in  ?  " 

Harry  was  in,  and  came  out  at  once. 

"  How's  Annie  ?  "  was  Jack's  first  question. 

"  Better,  much  better,  Jack ;  the  doctor  thinks 
She'll  do  now.  The  broth  put  fresh  life  into  her ; 
we're  all  better,  Jack,  thanks  to  you." 

"  That's  all  right,  Harry.  Put  on  your  cap  and 
walk  with  me  to  the  schoolroom.  Now,"  he  went 
on,  as  his  friend  rejoined  him,  and  they  turned  up 
the  street,  "  will  you  do  a  job  for  me  ?  " 

"  Anything  in  the  world,  Jack — leastways,  any- 
thing I  can." 

"  You  may  risk  your  life,  Harry." 

"All  right,  Jack,  I'll  risk  it  willing  for  you.  You 
risked  yours  for  me  at  the  old  shaft." 

"  Dost  know  what's  going  to  be  done  to-night, 
Harry  ?  " 

"  I've  heard  summat  about  it." 

"It  must  be  stopped,  Harry,  if  it  costs  you  and  me 
our  lives.  What's  that  when  the  whole  district  de- 
pends upon  it  ?  If  they  wreck  the  engines  and  flood 
the  mines  there  will  be  no  work  for  months ;  and 
what's  to  become  of  the  women  and  children  then  ? 
I'm  going  to  Mr.  Merton  to  tell  him,  and  to  get  him 


104  FACING  DEATH. 

to  write  a  letter  to  Sir  John  Butler — Brook's  place 
would  be  watched — he's  the  nearest  magistrate,  and 
the  most  active  about  here,  and  won't  let  the  grass 
grow  under  his  feet  by  all  accounts.  The  letter 
must  tell  him  of  the  attack  that  is  to  be  made  to-night, 
and  ask  him  to  send  for  the  soldiers,  if  no  police 
can  be  had.  I  want  you  to  take  the  letter,  Harry. 
Go  out  the  other  side  of  the  village  and  make  a 
long  sweep  round.  Don't  get  into  the  road  till  you 
get  a  full  mile  out  of  the  place.  Then  go  as  hard 
as  you  can  till  you  get  to  Butler's.  Insist  on  seeing 
him  yourself ;  say  it's  a  question  of  life  and  death. 
If  he's  out,  you  must  go  on  to  Hooper — he's  the 
next  magistrate.  When  you  have  delivered  the  letter, 
slip  off  home  and  go  to  bed,  and  never  let  out  all 
your  life  that  you  took  that  letter." 

"  All  right,  Jack ;  but  what  be'est  thou  going  to 
do?" 

"I'm  going  another  way,  lad ;  I've  got  my  work 
too.  You'd  best  stop  here,  Harry ;  I  will  bring  the 
letter  to  you.  It  may  get  out  some  day  that  Merton 
wrote  it,  and  it's  as  well  you  shouldn't  be  seen  near 
his  place." 


ATTACK  OAT  TH&  £XG2M£'llOVS&.    10$ 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  ATTACK   ON  THE    ENGINE-HOUSE. 

No  sooner  did  Mr.  Merton  hear  of  the  resolution 
of  the  miners  to  destroy  the  engines  than  he  sat 
down  and  wrote  an  urgent  letter  to  Sir  John  Butler. 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  Jack  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  If  the  masters  could  be 
warned  of  the  attack  they  might  get  a  few  viewers 
and  firemen  and  make  a  sort  of  defense  ;  but  if  the 
men's  blood's  up  it  might  go  hard  with  them  ;  and 
it  would  go  hard  with  you  if  you  were  known  to 
have  taken  the  news  of  it." 

"  I  will  take  the  risk  of  that,"  Mr.  Merton  said. 
"  Directly  it  is  dark  I  will  set  out.  What  are  you 
going  to  do,  Jack  ?  " 

"I've  got  my  work  marked  out,"  Jack  said. 
••  I'd  rather  not  tell  you  till  it's  all  over.  Good-by, 
sir  ;  Harry  is  waiting  for  the  letter." 

Mr.  Merton  did  not  carry  out  his  plans.  As 
soon  as  it  was  dark  he  left  the  village,  but  a  hun- 
dred yards  out  he  came  upon  a  party  of  men,  evi- 
dently posted  as  sentries.  These  roughly  told  him 
that  if  he  didn't  want  to  be  chucked  into  the  canal 


he'd  best  go  home  to  bed  ;  and  this,  after  trying 
another  road  with  the  same  result,  he  did. 

Jack  walked  with  Harry  as  far  as  the  railway 
station,  mentioning  to  several  friends  he  met  that 
he  was  off  again.  The  lads  crossed  the  line,  went 
out  of  the  opposite  booking-office,  and  set  off — for 
it  was  now  past  five,  and  already  dark — at  the  top 
of  their  speed  in  different  directions.  Jack  did  not 
stop  till  he  reached  the  engine-house  of  the  Vaugh- 
an  mine.  The  pumps  were  still  clanking  inside, 
and  the  water  streaming  down  the  shoot.  Peeping 
carefully  in,  to  see  that  his  friend,  John  Ratcliffe, 
was  alone,  Jack  entered. 

"  Well,  John,"  he  said,  "  the  engine's  still  going." 

"  Ay,  Jack  ;  but  if  what's  more  nor  one  has  told 
me  to-day  be  true,  it  be  for  the  last  time." 

"  Look  here,  John  ;  Mr.  Brook  has  been  a  good 
master,  will  you  do  him  a  good  turn  ?  " 

"  Ay,  lad  if  I  can ;  I've  held  on  here,  though 
they've  threatened  to  chuck  me  down  the  shaft ;  but 
I'm  a  married  man,  and  can't  throw  away  my  life." 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to,  John.  I  want  you  to  work 
hard  here  with  me  till  six  o'clock  strikes,  and  then 
go  home  as  usual." 

"  What  dost  want  done,  lad  ?  " 

"  What  steam  is  there  in  the  boiler  ?  " 

"  Only  about  fifteen  pounds.  I'm  just  knocking 
cff,  and  have  banked  the  fire  up." 

"  All  right,  John.    I  want  you  to  help  me  fix  the 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  ENGINE-HOUSE.    107 

fire  hose,  the  short  length,  to  that  blow-off  cock  at 
the  bottom  of  the  boiler.  We  can  unscrew  the 
pipe  down  to  the  drain,  and  can  fasten  the  hose  to 
it  with  a  union,  I  expect.  You've  got  some  unions, 
haven't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  lad ;  and  what  then  ?  " 

"  That's  my  business,  John.  I'm  going  to  hold 
this  place  till  the  soldiers  come  ;  and  I  think  that 
with  twenty  pounds  of  steam  in  the  boiler,  and  the 
hose,  I  can  keep  all  the  miners  of  Stokebridge  out. 
At  any  rate,  I'll  try.  Now,  John,  set  to  work.  I 
want  thee  to  go  straight  home,  and  then  no  one 
will  suspect  thee  of  having  a  hand  in  the  matter. 
I'll  go  out  when  thou  dost,  and  thou  canst  swear,  if 
thou  art  asked,  that  there  was  not  a  soul  in  the 
house  when  thou  earnest  away." 

"  Thou  wilt  lose  thy  life,  Jack." 

"  That  be  my  business,"  Jack  said.  "/I  think 
not.  Now  set  to  work,  John ;  give  me  a  spanner 
and  let's  get  the  pipe  off  the  cock  at  once." 

John  Ratcliffe  set  to  work  with  a  will,  and  in 
twenty  minutes  the  unions  were  screwed  on  and 
the  hose  attached,  a  length  of  thirty  feet,  which 
was  quite  sufficient  to  reach  to  the  window,  some 
eight  feet  above  the  ground.  Along  by  this  window 
ran  a  platform.  There  was  another,  and  a  smaller 
window,  on  the  other  side. 

While  they  were  working,  John  Ratcliffe  tried  to 
dissuade  Jack  from  carrying  out  his  plan. 


1 08  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

u  Its  no  use,  John.  I  mean  to  save  the  engines, 
and  so  the  pit.  They'll  never  get  in ;  and  no  one 
knows  I  am  here,  and  no  one  will  suspect  me. 
None  of  'em  will  know  my  voice,  for  they  won't 
bring  boys  with  them,  and  dad  won't  be  here. 
There,  it's  striking  six.  Let  me  just  drop  a  rope 
out  of  the  window  to  climb  in  again  with.  Now 
we'll  go  out  together ;  do  thou  lock  the  door,  take 
the  key  and  go  off  home.  Like  enough  they'll  ask 
thee  for  the  key,  or  they  may  bring  their  sledges  to 
break  it  in.  Anyhow  it  will  make  no  difference,  for 
there  are  a  couple  of  bolts  inside,  and  I  shall  make 
it  fast  with  bars.  There  that's  right.  Good  night, 
John.  Remember,  whatever  comes  of  it,  thou 
knovvest  naught  of  it.  Thou  earnest  away  and  left 
the  place  empty,  as  usual,  and  no  other  there." 

"  Good-by,  lad,  I'd  stop  with  'ee  and  share  thy 
risk,  but  they'd  know  I  was  here,  and  my  life 
wouldn't  be  worth  the  price  of  a  pot  o'  beer.  Don't 
forget,  lad,  if  thou  lowerest  the  water,  to  damp  down 
the  fire,  and  open  the  valves." 

Jack,  left  to  himself,  clambered  up  to  the  window 
and  entered  the  engine-house  again,  threw  some 
fresh  coal  on  the  fire,  heaped  a  quantity  of  coal 
against  the  door,  and  jammed  several  long  iron 
bars  against  it.  Then  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat 
listening,  occasionally  getting  up  to  hold  a  lantern 
|o  the  steam-gauge,  as  it  crept  gradually  up. 

«'  Twenty-five   pounds,"  he  said ;  "  that  will  b§ 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  ENGINE-HOUSE.     109 

enough  to  throw  the  water  fifty  or  sixty  yards  on  a 
level,  and  the  door  of  the  winding-engine's  not  more 
than  thirty,  so  I  can  hold  them  both  if  they  try  to 
break  in  there." 

He  again  banked  up  the  fires,  and  sat  thinking. 
Harry  would  be  at  the  magistrate's  by  a  quarter  to 
six.  By  six  o'clock  Sir  John  could  be  on  his  way 
to  Birmingham  for  troops  ;  fifteen  miles  to  drive — 
say  an  hour  and  a  half.  Another  hour  for  the  sol- 
diers to  start,  and  three  hours  to  do  the  nineteen 
miles  to  the  Vaughan,  half-past  eleven — perhaps 
half  an  hour  earlier,  perhaps  half  an  hour  later. 
There  was  no  fear  but  there  was  plenty  of  water. 
The  boiler  was  a  large  one,  and  was  built  partly 
into,  partly  out  of,  the  engine-house.  That  is  to 
say,  while  the  furnace-door,  the  gauges,  and  the 
safety-valve  were  inside,  the  main  portion  of  the 
boiler  was  outside  the  walls.  The  blow-off  cock 
was  two  inches  in  diameter,  and  the  nozzle  of  the 
hose  an  inch  and  a  half.  It  would  take  some 
minutes  then,  even  with  the  steam  at  a  pressure  of 
twenty-five  pounds  to  the  inch,  to  blow  the  water 
out,  and  a  minute  would,  he  was  certain,  do  all  that 
was  needed. 

Not  even  when,  upon  the  first  day  of  his  life  in 
the  pit,  Jack  sat  hour  after  hour  alone  in  the  dark- 
ness, did  the  time  seem  to  go  so  slowly  as  it  did 
that  evening.  Once  or  twice  he  thought  he  heard 
footsteps,  and  crept  cautiously  up  to  the  window  to 


j  10  FACING  DBA  rff. 

listen ;  but  each  time,  convinced  of  his  error,  he  re- 
turned to  his  place  on  a  bench  near  the  furnace. 
He  heard  the  hours  strike,  one  after  another,  on  the 
Stokebridge  church  clock — eight,  nine,  ten — and 
then  he  took  his  post  by  the  window  and  listened. 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed,  and  then  there  was  a 
faint,  confused  sound.  Nearer  it  came,  and  nearer, 
until  it  swelled  into  the  trampling  of  a  crowd  of 
many  hundreds  of  men.  They  came  along  with 
laughter  and  rough  jests,  for  they  had  no  thought  of 
opposition — no  thought  that  any  one  was  near  them. 
The  crowd  moved  forward  until  they  were  within 
a  few  yards  of  the  engine-house,  and  then  one,  who 
seemed  to  be  in  command,  said,  "  Smash  the  door 
in  with  your  sledges,  lads." 

Jack  had,  as  they  approached,  gone  down  to  the 
boiler,  and  had  turned  the  blow-off  cock,  and  the 
boiling  water  swelled  the  strong  leathern  hose  almost 
to  bursting.  Then  he  went  back  to  the  window, 
threw  it  open,  and  stood  with  the  nozzle  in  his 
hand. 

"  Hold  I  "  he  shouted  out  in  loud,  clear  tones. 
"  Let  no  man  move  a  step  nearer  for  his  life," 

The  mob  stood  silent,  paralyzed  with  surprise. 
Jack  had  spoken  without  a  tinge  of  the  local  accent, 
and  as  none  of  the  boys  were  there,  his  voice  was 
quite  unrecognized.  "  Who  be  he  ?  "  *«  It's  a 
stranger!"  and  other  sentences  were  muttered 
through  the  throng. 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  ENGINE-HOUSE,    in 

"  Who  be  you  ?  "  the  leader  asked,  recovering 
from  his  surprise. 

"  Never  mind  who  I  am,"  Jack  said,  standing 
well  back  from  the  window,  lest  the  light  from  the 
lanterns  which  some  of  the  men  carried  might  fall 
on  his  face.  "  I  am  here  in  the  name  of  the  law. 
I  warn  you  to  desist  from  your  evil  design.  Go  to 
your  homes ;  the  soldiers  are  on  their  way,  and  may 
be  here  any  minute.  Moreover,  I  have  means  here 
of  destroying  any  man  who  attempts  to  enter." 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  crowd.  "  The 
soldiers  be  coming,"  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and 
the  more  timid  began  to  move  toward  the  outside 
of  the  crowd. 

"  Stand  firm,  lads,  it  be  a  lie,"  shouted  the  leader. 
"  Thee  bain't  to  be  frighted  by  one  man,  be'st  'ee  ? 
What  I  five  hundred  Staffordshire  miners  afeard  o' 
one  ?  Why,  ye'll  be  the  laughing  stock  of  the  coun- 
try 1  Now,  lads,  break  in  the  door;  we'll  soon  see 
who  be  yon  chap  that  talks  so  big." 

There  was  a  rush  to  the  door,  and  a  thundering 
clatter  as  the  heavy  blows  of  the  sledge-hammers  fell 
on  the  wood  ;  while  another  party  began  an  assault 
upon  the  door  of  the  winding-engine  house. 

Then  Jack,  with  closely  pressed  lips  and  set  face, 
turned  the  cock  of  the  nozzle. 

With  a  hiss  the  scalding  water  leaped  out  in  a 
stream.  Jack  stood  well  forward  now  and  with  the 
bose  swept  the  crowd,  as  a  fireman  might  sweep  a 


112  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

burning  building.  Driven  by  the  tremendous  force 
of  the  internal  steam,  the  boiling  water  knocked  the 
men  in  front  headlong  over;  then,  as  he  raised 
the  nozzle  and  scattered  the  water  broadcast  over  the 
crowd,  wild  yells,  screams,  and  curses  broke  on  the 
night  air.  Another  move,  and  the  column  of  boil- 
ing fluid  fell  on  those  engaged  on  the  other  engine- 
house  door,  and  smote  them  down. 

Then  Jack  turned  the  cock  again,  and  the  stream 
of  water  ceased. 

It  was  but  a  minute  since  he  had  turned  it  on,  but 
it  had  done  its  terrible  work.  A  score  of  men  lay 
on  the  ground,  rolling  in  agony;  others  danced, 
screamed,  and  yelled  in  pain ;  others,  less  severely 
scalded,  filled  the  air  with  curses  ;  while  all  able  to 
move  made  a  wild  rush  back  from  the  terrible 
building. 

When  the  wild  cries  had  a  little  subsided,  Jack 
called  out: 

"  Now,  lads,  you  can  come  back  safely.  I  have 
plenty  more  hot  water,  and  I  could  have  scalded  the 
whole  of  you  as  badly  as  those  in  front  had  I  wanted 
to.  Now  I  promise,  on  my  oath,  not  to  turn  it  on 
again  if  you  will  come  and  carry  off  your  mates  who 
are  here.  Take  them  off  home  as  quick  as  you 
can,  before  the  soldiers  come.  I  don't  want  to  do 
you  harm.  You'd  all  best  be  in  bed  as  soon  as  you 
can." 

The  men  hesitated,  but  it  was  clear  to  them  all 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  ENGINE-HOUSE.    113 

that  it  had  been  in  the  power  of  their  unknown  foe 
to  have  inflicted  a  far  heavier  punishment  upon 
them  than  he  had  done,  and  there  was  a  ring  of 
truth  and  honesty  in  his  voice  which  they  could  not 
doubt.  So  after  a  little  hesitation  a  number  of  them 
came  forward,  and  lifting  the  men  who  had  fallen 
near  the  engine-house,  carried  them  off ;  and  in  a 
few  minutes  there  was  a  deep  silence  where,  just  be- 
fore, a  very  pandemonium  had  seemed  let  loose. 

Then  Jack,  the  strain  over,  sat  down  and  cried 
like  a  child. 

Half  an  hour  later,  listening  intently,  he  heard  a 
deep  sound  in  the  distance.  "  Here  come  the  sol- 
diers," he  muttered,  "it  is  time  forme  to  be  off." 
He  glanced  at  the  steam-gauge,  and  saw  that  the 
steam  was  falling,  while  the  water-gauge  showed 
that  there  was  still  sufficient  water  for  safety,  and 
he  then  opened  the  window  at  the  back  of  the 
building,  and  dropped  to  the  ground.  In  an  instant 
he  was  seized  in  a  powerful  grasp. 

"  I  thought  ye'd  be  coming  out  here,  and  now 
I've  got  ye,"  growled  a  deep  voice,  which  Jack  rec- 
ognized as  that  of  Roger  Hawking,  the  terror  of 
Stokebridge. 

For  an  instant  his  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  at 
the  extent  of  his  peril ;  then  with  a  sudden  wrench, 
he  swung  round  and  faced  his  captor,  twisted  his 
hands  in  his  handkerchief,  and  drove  his  knuckles 
jnto  his  throat.  Then  came  a  crashing  blow  in  his 
8 


1 1 4  FACING  DBA  Tff. 

face — another  and  another.  With  head  bent  down, 
Jack  held  on  his  grip  with  the  gameness  and  tenac- 
ity of  a  bull-dog,  while  the  blows  rained  on  his  head, 
and  his  assailant,  in  his  desperate  effort  to  free 
himself,  swung  his  body  hither  and  thither  in  the 
air,  as  a  bull  might  swing  a  dog  which  had  pinned 
him.  Jack  felt  his  senses  going — a  dull,  dazed 
feeling  came  over  him.  Then  he  felt  a  crashj  as 
his  adversary  reeled  and  fell — and  then  all  was 
dark. 

It  could  have  been  but  a  few  minutes  that  he  lay 
thus,  for  he  awoke  with  the  sound  of  a  thunder  of 
horses'  hoofs,  and  a  clatter  of  swords  in  the  yard 
on  the  other  side  of  the  engine-house.  Rousing 
himself,  he  found  that  he  still  grasped  the  throat  of 
the  man  beneath  him.  With  a  vague  sense  of 
wonder  whether  his  foe  was  dead,  he  rose  to  his 
feet  and  staggered  off,  the  desire  to  avoid  the  troops 
dispersing  all  other  ideas  in  his  brain.  For  a  few 
hundred  yards  he  staggered  along,  swaying  like  a 
drunken  man,  and  knowing  nothing  of  where  he 
was  going ;  then  he  stumbled,  and  fell  again,  and 
lay  for  hours  insensible. 

It  was  just  the  faint  break  of  day  when  he  came 
to,  the  cold  air  of  the  morning  having  brought  him 
to  himself.  It  took  him  a  few  minutes  to  recall  what 
had  happened  and  his  whereabouts.  Then  he  made 
his  way  to  the  canal,  which  was  close  by,  washed  the 
blood  from  his  face,  and  set  out  to  walk  to  Binning- 


THE' ATTACK  Off  THE  ENGrVEHOUSB.    115 

ham.  He  was  too  shaken  and  bruised  to  make  much 
progress,  and  after  walking  for  awhile  crept  into  the 
shelter  of  a  haystack,  and  went  off  to  sleep  for  many 
hours.  After  it  was  dusk  in  the  evening  he  started 
again,  and  made  his  way  to  his  lodgings  at  ten 
o'clock  that  night.  It  was  a  fortnight  before  he 
could  leave  his  room,  so  bruised  and  cut  was  his 
face,  and  a  month  before  the  last  sign  of  the 
struggle  was  obliterated,  and  he  felt  that  he  could 
return  to  Stokebridge  without  his  appearance  being 
noticed. 

There,  great  changes  had  taken  place.  The  mili- 
tary had  found  the  splintered  door,  the  hose,  and 
the  still  steaming  water  in  the  yard,  and  the  partic- 
ulars of  the  occurrence  which  had  taken  place  had 
been  pretty  accurately  judged.  They  were  indeed 
soon  made  public  by  the  stories  of  the  scalded  men, 
a  great  number  of  whom  were  forced  to  place  them- 
selves in  the  hands  of  the  doctor,  many  of  them 
having  had  very  narrow  escapes  of  their  lives,  but 
none  of  them  had  actually  succumbed.  In  search- 
ing round  the  engine-house  the  soldiers  had  found 
a  man,  apparently  dead,  his  tongue  projecting  from 
his  mouth.  A  surgeon  had  accompanied  them,  and 
a  vein  having  been  opened  and  water  dashed  in  his 
face,  he  gave  signs  of  recovery.  He  had  been 
taken  off  to  jail  as  being  concerned  in  the  attack  on 
the  engine-house ;  but  no  evidence  could  be  ob- 
tained against  him,  and  he  would  have  been  released 


j  1 6  fA  CING  DEA  TH. 

had  he  not  been  recognized  as  a  man  who  had,  five 
years  before,  effected  a  daring  escape  from  Port- 
land, where  he  was  undergoing  a  life  sentence  for 
a  brutal  manslaughter. 

The  defeat  of  the  attempt  to  destroy  the 
Vaughan  engines  was  the  death-blow  of  the  strike. 
Among  the  foremost  in  the  attack,  and  therefore  so 
terribly  scalded  that  they  were  disabled  for  weeks, 
were  most  of  the  leaders  of  the  strike  in  the  pits  of 
the  district,  and  their  voices  silenced,  and  their 
counsel  discredited,  the  men  two  days  after  the  attack 
had  a  great  meeting,  at  which  it  was  resolved  almost 
unanimously  to  go  to  work  on  the  masters'  terms. 

Great  excitement  was  caused  throughout  the  dis- 
trict by  the  publication  of  the  details  of  the  defense 
of  the  engine-house,  and  the  most  strenuous  efforts 
were  made  by  Mr.  Brook  to  discover  the  person  to 
whom  he  was  so  indebted.  The  miners  were  unani- 
mous in  describing  him  as  a  stranger,  and  as  speak- 
ing like  a  gentleman ;  and  there  was  great  wonder 
why  any  one  who  had  done  so  great  a  service  to 
the  mine-owners  should  conceal  his  identity.  Jack's 
secret  was,  however,  well  kept  by  the  three  or  four 
who  alone  knew  it,  and  who  knew  too  that  his  life 
would  not  be  safe  for  a  day  did  the  colliers,  groaning 
and  smarting  over  their  terrible  injuries,  discover  to 
whom  they  were  indebted  for  them. 


AFTER  TH£.  STRI&&. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AFTER  THE   STRIKE. 

**  WELL,  Jack,  so  you're  back  again,"  Nelly  Hardy 
said  as  she  met  Jack  Simpson  on  his  way  home  from 
work  on  the  first  day  after  his  return. 

"Ay,  Nelly,  and  glad  to  see  you.  How  have 
things  gone  on  ? "  and  he  nodded  toward  her  home. 

"  Better  than  I  ever  knew  them,"  the  girl  said. 
"  When  father  could  not  afford  to  buy  drink  we  had 
better  times  than  I  have  ever  known.  It  was  a 
thousand  times  better  to  starve  than  as  'twas  before. 
He's  laid  up  still ;  you  nigh  scalded  him  to  death, 
Jack,  and  I  doubt  he'll  never  be  fit  for  work  again." 

"  I,"  Jack  exclaimed,  astounded,  for  he  believed 
that  the  secret  was  known  only  to  his  mother,  Harry, 
John  Ratcliffe,  Mr.  Merton,  and  perhaps  the  school- 
master's daughter. 

"  Has  Harry " 

"  No,  Harry  has  not  said  a  word.  Oh,  Jack,  I 
didn't  think  it  of  you.  You  call  me  a  friend  and 
keep  this  a  secret ;  you  let  Harry  know  it  and  say 
powt  to  me.  I  did  not  think  it  of  you,"  and  the 
dark  eyes  filled  with  tears. 


,lS  FACING  DEATH, 

«  But  if  Harry  did  not  tell  you,  how— *" 

"As  if  I  wanted  telling,"  she  said  indignantly 
"  Who  would  have  dared  do  it  but  you  ?  Didn't 
I  know  you  were  here  an  hour  or  two  before,  and 
you  think  I  needed  telling  who  it  was  as  faced  all 
the  pitmen  ?  And  to  think  you  hid  it  from  me  J 
Didn't  you  think  I  could  be  trusted  ?  Couldn't  1 
have  gone  to  fetch  the  redcoats  for  you  ?  Couldn't 
I  have  sat  by  you  in  the  engine-house,  and  waited 
and  held  your  hand  when  you  stood  against  them 
all  ?  Oh,  Jack  1 "  And  for  the  first  time  since  then 
friendship  had  been  pledged,  nearly  four  years  be- 
fore, Jack  saw  Nelly  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  didn't  mean  unkind,  Nell,  I  didn't,  indeed, 
and  if  I  had  wanted  another  messenger  I  would 
have  come  to  you.  Don't  I  know  you  are  as  true 
as  steel  ?  Come,  lass,  don't  take  on.  I  would  have 
sent  thee  instead  o'  Harry  only  I  thought  he 
could  run  fastest.  Girls'  wind  ain't  as  good  as 
lads'." 

"  And  you  didn't  doubt  I'd  do  it,  Jack  ?  " 

"Not  for  a  moment,"  Jack  said.  "  I  would  have 
trusted  thee  as  much  as  Harry." 

"  Well,  then,  I  forgive  you,  Jack,  but  if  ever  you 
get  in  danger  again,  and  doan't  let  me  know,  I'll 
never  speak  a  word  to  you  again." 

In  the  years  which  had  passed  since  this  friend 
ship  began  Nelly  Hardy  had  greatly  changed.  The 
companionship  of  two  quiet  lads  like  Jack  and 


THE 

Harry  had  tamed  her  down,  and  her  love  of  reading 
and  her  study  of  all  the  books  on  history  and  travel 
on  Jack's  bookshelves  had  softened  her  speech. 
When  alone  the  three  spoke  with  but  little  of  the 
dialect  of  the  place,  Jack  having  insisted  on  improve- 
ment in  this  respect.  With  Nelly  his  task  had  been 
easy,  for  she  was  an  apt  pupil,  but  Harry  still  re- 
tained some  of  his  roughness  of  speech. 

Nelly  was  fifteen  now,  and  was  nearly  as  tall  as 
Jack,  who  was  square  and  somewhat  stout  for  his 
age.  With  these  two  friends  Jack  would  talk  some- 
times of  his  hopes  of  rising  and  making  a  way  for 
himself.  Harry,  who  believed  devoutly  in  his  friend, 
entered  most  warmly  into  his  hopes,  but  Nelly  on 
this  subject  alone  was  not  sympathetic. 

"You  don't  say  anything,"  Jack  remarked  one 
day ;  "  do  you  think  my  castles  in  the  air  will  never 
come  true  ?  " 

"  I  know  they  will  come  true,  Jack,"  she  said 
earnestly  ;  "but  don't  ask  me  to  be  glad.  I  can't; 
I  try  to,  but  I  can't.  It's  selfish,  but,  but — "  and 
her  voice  quivered.  "  Every  step  thou  takest  will 
carry  you  further  up  from  me,  and  I  can't  be  glad 
on  it,  Jack  1  " 

"  Nonsense,  Nelly,  "Jack  said  angrily,  "dost  think 
so  little  of  me  as  to  think  that  I  shall  not  be  as  true 
to  my  two  friends,  Harry  and  you,  as  I  am  how  ?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

''You  will  try,  Jack,  you  will  try.     Don't  think  I 


120  FA  CING  &£A  TH. 

doubt  you,  but "  and  turning  round  she  fled  away 

at  full  speed. 

"  I  believe  she  ran  away  because  she  was  going 
to  cry,"  Harry  said.  "  Lasses  are  strange  things, 
and  though  in  some  things  Nell's  half  a  lad,  yet 
she's  soft  you  see  on  some  points.  Curious,  isn't 
it,  Jack?" 

"Very  curious,"  Jack  said;  "I  thought  I  under- 
stood Nell  as  well  as  I  did  you  or  myself,  but  I  be- 
gin to  think  I  doan't  understand  her  as  much  as  I 
thought.  It  comes  of  her  being  a  lass,  of  course, 
but  it's  queer  too,"  and  Jack  shook  his  head  over 
the  mysterious  nature  of  lasses.  "  You  can't  un- 
derstand 'em,"  he  went  on  again  thoughtfully. 
"  Now,  if  you  wanted  some  clothes,  Harry,  and  you 
were  out  of  work,  I  should  just  buy  you  a  set  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  you'd  take  'em  the  same.  It 
would  be  only  natural  like  friends,  wouldn't  it  ? " 

Harry  assented. 

"  Now,  I've  been  wanting  to  give  Nelly  a  gown, 
and  a  jacket,  and  hat  for  the  last  two  years.  I 
want  her  to  look  nice,  and  hold  her  own  with  the 
other  lasses  of  the  place — she's  as  good  looking  as 
any — but  I  daren't  do  it.  No,  I  daren't,  downright. 
I  know,  as  well  as  if  I  see  it,  how  she'd  flash  up,  and 
how  angry  she'd  be." 

"  Why  should  she  ?  "  Harry  asked. 

"  That's  what  I  doan't  know,  lad,  but  I  know  she 
would  be.  I  suppose  it  comes  of  her  being  a  lass, 


AFTER  THE  STRIKE.  12 1 

but  it  beats  me  altogether.  Why  shouldn't  she  take 
it  ?  other  lasses  take  presents  from  their  lads,  why 
shouldn't  Nell  take  one  from  her  friend?  But  she 
wouldn't,  I'd  bet  my  life  she  wouldn't,  and  she 
wouldn't  say,  '  No,  and  thank  you,'  but  she'd  treat 
it  as  if  I'd  insulted  her.  No,  it  can't  be  done,  lad  • 
but  it's  a  pity,  for  I  should  ha'  liked  to  see  her  look 
nice  for  once." 

Not  satisfied  with  his  inability  to  solve  the  ques- 
tion Jack  took  his  mother  into  his  confidence. 

Jane  Haden  smiled. 

"  Noa,  Jack,  I  don't  think  as  how  thou  canst  give 
Nell  Hardy  a  dress.  She  is  a  good,  quiet  girl  and 
keeps  herself  respectable,  which,  taking  in  to  account 
them  she  comes  from,  is  a  credit  to  her,  but  I  don't 
think  thou  could 'st  gi'  her  a  gown." 

"  But  why  not,  mother  ?  "  Jack  persisted.  "  I 
might  gi'  her  a  pair  o'  earrings  or  a  brooch,  I  sup 
pose,  which  would  cost  as  much  as  the  gown." 

"  Yes,  thou  might'st  do  that,  Jack." 

"  Then  if  she  could  take  the  thing  which  would 
be  no  manner  o'  use  to  her,  why  couldn't  she  take 
the  thing  that  would  ?  " 

"  I  doan't  know  as  I  can  rightly  tell  you,  Jack, 
but  there's  a  difference." 

"  But  can't  you  tell  me  what  is  the  difference  ?  " 
Jack  insisted. 

u  Noa,  Jack,  I  can't,  but  there  be  a  difference." 

Jack  seized  his  candle  with  a  cry  of  despair,  and 


122  fA  C1NG  DEA  Tff. 

ran  up-stairs.  He  had  solved  many  a  tough  prob- 
lem, but  this  was  beyond  him  altogether.  He  was 
not,  however,  accustomed  to  be  baffled,  and  the  next 
day  he  renewed  the  subject,  this  time  to  Nelly  her- 
self. 

"  Look  here,  Nell,"  he  said,  "  I  want  to  ask  you 
a  question.  It  is  a  supposition,  you  know,  only  a 
supposition,  but  it  bothers  me." 

"  What  is  it,  Jack  ? "  she  said,  looking  up  from 
the  ground,  upon  which  as  was  her  custom  she  was 
sitting  with  a  book  while  Jack  sat  on  a  gate, 

"  If  I  was  to  offer  you  a  pair  of  gold  earrings." 

"  I  wouldn't  take  'em,"  the  girl  said,  rising,  "  you 
know  I  wouldn't,  Jack ;  you  know  I  never  take  pres- 
ents from  you." 

"  I  know,  lass,  I  know.  We'll  suppose  you 
wouldn't  take  it,  but  you  wouldn't  be  angered, 
would  you  ? " 

"  I  should  be  angered  that  you  had  spent  money 
foolishly,"  the  girl  said  after  a  pause,  "  when  you 
knew  I  shouldn't  take  it,  but  I  couldn't  be  angered 
any  other  way." 

"  Well,  but  if  I  were  to  buy  you  a  hat  and  & 
jacket  and  a  gown." 

"  You  dare  not,"  the  girl  said  passionately,  her 
face  flushed  scarlet ;  "  you  dare  not,  Jack." 

"  No,"  Jack  said  consciously,  "  I  know  I  dare 
not,  though  I  should  like  to;  but  why  don't  I 
dare?" 


AFTER  THE  STRtK£.  123 

"  Because  it  would  be  an  insult,  a  gross  insult, 
Jack,  and  you  dare  not  insult  me." 

"  No  lass,  I  darena ;  but  why  should  it  be  an  in- 
sult ?  that's  what  I  canna  make  out ;  why  wouldn't 
it  be  an  insult  to  offer  you  a  gold  brooch  worth 
three  or  four  pounds,  and  yet  be  an  insult  to  offer 
you  the  other  things  ?  what's  the  difference  ? " 

Nelly  had  calmed  down  now  when  she  saw  that 
the  question  was  a  hypothetical  one,  and  that  Jack 
had  not,  as  she  at  first  supposed,  bought  clothes  for 
her. 

She  thought  for  some  time.  "  I  suppose,  Jack, 
the  difference  is  this.  It's  the  duty  of  a  girl's  father 
and  mother  to  buy  fit  clothes  for  her,  and  if  they 
don't  it's  either  their  fault  or  it's  because  they  are 
too  poor.  So  to  give  clothes  is  an  interference 
and  a  sort  of  reproach.  A  brooch  is  not  necessary ; 
it's  a  pretty  ornament,  and  so  a  lad  may  give  it  to 
his  lass  wi'out  shame." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  must  be  that,"  Jack  said 
thoughtfully.  "I'm  glad  I've  got  some  sort  of 
answer." 


1*4  JFAC2XG 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

A  HEAVY   LOSS. 

0  I  THOUGHT,  sir,  that  you  promised  to  say  noth- 
ing about  that  soup-kitchen  money,"  Jack  said  rather 
indignantly  one  evening  a  fortnight  after  he  had 
gone  to  work  again.  "  Here  all  the  women  of  the 
place  seem  to  know  about  it,  and  as  I  was  coming 
home  from  work  to-day,  there  was  Mrs.  Thompson 
run  out  and  shook  me  by  the  hand  and  would  ha' 
kissed  me  if  I'd  let  her,  and  said  I'd  saved  her 
children's  lives.  I  ha'  been  thinking  of  going  away ; 
I  can't  stand  this ;  and  I  thought  you  promised  to 
say  nowt  about  it." 

" '  Nothing,'  Jack,"  corrected  Mr.  Merton.  "  It  is 
a  long  time  since  I  heard  you  say  'nowt.1  No, 
Jack,  I  did  not  promise  ;  you  told  me  to  say  nothing 
about  it,  but  I  was  careful  not  to  promise.  Sit 
down,  lad,  you're  a  little  hot  now,  and  I  am  not 
surprised,  but  I  am  sure  that  you  will  credit  me  for 
having  acted  for  the  best." 

Jack  sat  down  with  a  little  grunt,  and  with  the 
expression  of  dissatisfaction  on  his  face  in  no  way 
mollified. 


A  HEAVY  LOSS.  125 

*'  In  the  first  place,  Jack,  you  will,  I  know,  be 

•orry  to  hear  that  I  am  going  away." 

"  Going  away  I  "  Jack  exclaimed,  leaping  to  his 
feet,  all  thought  of  his  grievance  gone  at  once. 
"  Oh  1  Mr.  Merton." 

"  I  told  you,  you  will  remember,  Jack,  when  the 
strike  first  began,  that  for  the  sake  of  my  daughter 
I  should  make  an  effort  to  obtain  a  superior  posi- 
tion, and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  have,  done  so.  I 
have  obtained  the  post  of  mathematical  master  at 
the  Foundation  School  at  Birmingham,  with  a  sal- 
ary of  three  hundred  a  year,  and  this,  Jack,  I  partly 
owe  to  you." 

"  To  me  I "  Jack  exclaimed  in  astonishment ; 
"  how  could  that  be,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,  Jack,  you  got  me  to  write  that  letter  to 
Sir  John  Butler,  that  was  the  means  of  bringing  the 
troops  over  from  Birmingham.  As  we  know,  they 
arrived  too  late,  for  in  point  of  fact  the  hot 
water  from  the  Vaughan  boiler  put  an  end  to  the 
riot  and  the  strike  together.  However,  Sir  John 
Butler  mentioned  to  Mr.  Brook,  and  the  other 
owners  whose  mines  were  threatened,  that  it  was  I 
who  at  some  risk  to  myself  sent  the  message  which 
brought  down  the  troops.  I  can  assure  you  that  I 
disclaimed  any  merit  in  the  affair  ;  however,  they 
chose  to  consider  themselves  under  an  obligation, 
and  when  I  applied  for  the  vacant  mastership,  send- 
ipg  in,  of  course,  my  college  testimonials,  they  were 


126  FACING  DEATH. 

good  enough  to  exert  all  their  influence  with  ths 
governors  in  my  favor,  and  I  was  elected  unani- 
mously. The  salary  is  an  increasing  one,  and  I 
am  to  be  allowed  to  coach  private  pupils  for  the 
university.  So,  Jack,  you  may  congratulate  me." 

"  I  do,  sir,  most  heartily,  most  heartily,"  Jack 
said  as  he  grasped  the  hand  which  Mr.  Merton 
held  out,  but  his  voice  quivered  a  little  and  tears 
stood  in  his  eyes.  "  I  am  glad,  indeed,  although  I 
shall  miss  you  so  terribly,  you  have  been  so  good 
to  me,"  and  Jack  fairly  broke  down  now,  and  cried 
silently. 

Mr.  Merton  put  his  hand  on  his  shoulder  : "  Jack, 
my  work  is  nearly  don^,  so  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned. You  have  worked  nearly  as  far  as  can  be 
of  any  use  to  you  in  pure  mathematics.  For  the 
next  few  months  you  may  go  on  ;  but  then  you  had 
better  turn  your  attention  to  the  useful  application 
of  what  you  have  learned.  You  want  to  fit  your- 
self to  be  an  engineer,  especially,  of  course,  a  min- 
ing engineer  ;  still  the  more  general  your  knowledge 
the  better.  You  will  have,  therefore,  to  devote 
yourself  to  the  various  strains  and  stresses  in  iron 
bridges,  and  the  calculation  of  the  strength  of  the 
various  forms  of  these  structures.  Then  all  calcu- 
lations as  to  the  expenditure  of  heat  and  force  in 
steam  engines  will  be  quite  material  for  you  to 
master.  In  fact,  there  is  work  before  you  for  an- 
other  four  or  five  years.  But  tor  much  of  this  you 


will  not  require  a  master.  You  will  find  the  practi- 
cal part  easy  to  you  when  you  have  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  mathematics.  At  the  same  time  if 
you  will  once  a  week  send  me  your  papers,  noting 
all  difficulties  that  you  may  meet  with,  I  will  go 
through  them  and  answer  you,  and  will  also  give 
you  papers  to  work  out." 

"  You  are  very,  very  kind,  sir,"  Jack  s?id  ;  "but 
it  will  not  be  the  same  thing  as  you  being  here." 

"  No,  not  quite  the  same,  Jack  ;  still  we  can 
hardly  help  that." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir  1 "  Jack  said  eagerly,  "  and  please 
do  not  think  that  I  am  not  glad  to  hear  that  you 
have  got  a  place  more  worthy  of  you.  It  was  a 
blow  to  me  just  at  first,  and  I  was  selfish  to  think 
of  myself  even  for  a  moment." 

"  Well,  Jack,  and  now  about  this  question  of  the 
soup  dinner  ?  " 

"  Oh  I  it  does  not  matter,  sir.  I  had  forgot  all 
about  it." 

"  It  matters  a  little,  Jack,  because,  although  I  did 
not  promise  to  keep  silence,  I  should  certainly  have 
respected  your  wish,  had  it  not  been  that  it  seemed 
to  be  a  far  more  important  matter  that  the  truth 
should  be  known." 

"  More  important,  sir  ?  "  Jack  repeated  in  a  puz- 
zled tone. 

"  More  important,  Jack.  My  successor  has  been 
chosen.  He  is  just  the  man  for  this  place — earnest 


1*8  FACWG  DEATH. 

well  trained,  a  good  disciplinarian.  He  will  be  no 
help  to  you,  Jack.  He  is  simply  taught  and  trained 
as  the  master  of  a  national  school,  but  he  is  thor- 
oughly in  earnest.  I  have  told  him  that  his  most 
efficient  assistant  here  will  be  yourself." 

"  I  ?  "  Jack  exclaimed  in  extreme  astonishment. 

"  You,  Jack,  not  as  a  teacher,  but  as  an  example. 
You  have  immense  power  of  doing  good,  Jack,  if 
you  do  but  choose  to  exert  it." 

Jack  was  altogether  too  surprised  to  speak  for 
some  time. 

"  A  power  of  good,"  he  said  at  last.  "  The  only 
good  I  can  do,  sir,  and  that  is  not  much,  is  to 
thrash  chaps  I  see  bullying  smaller  boys,  but  that's 
nothing." 

"  Well,  that's  something,  Jack  ;  and  indeed  I  fear 
you  are  fond  of  fighting." 

"  I  am  not  fond  of  it,"  Jack  said.  "  I  don't  care 
about  it  one  way  or  the  other.  It  doesn't  hurt  me  ; 
I  am  as  hard  as  nails,  you  see,  so  I  don't  think 
more  about  fighting  than  I  do  about  eating  my 
dinner." 

"  I  don't  like  fighting,  Jack,  when  it  can  be  avoid- 
ed, and  I  don't  think  that  you  are  quarrelsome, 
though  you  do  get  into  so  many  fights." 

"  Indeed  I  am  not  quarrelsome,  Mr.  Merton  ;  I 
never  quarrel  with  any  one.  If  any  of  the  big 
chaps  interfere  with  us  and  want  to  fight  of  course 
I  am  ready,  or  if  chaps  from  the  other  pits  think 


A  &E AV-Y  LOSs.  129 

that  they  can  knock  our  chaps  about,  of  course  I 
show  them  that  the  Vaughans  can  fight,  or  if  I  see 
any  fellow  pitching  into  a  young  one " 

"  Or,  in  fact,  Jack,  on  any  pretext  whatever. 
Well,  if  it  were  any  one  else  but  yourself  I  should 
speak  very  strongly  against  it ;  but  in  your  case  I 
avow  that  I  am  glad  that  you  have  fought,  and 
fought  until,  as  I  know,  no  one  anywhere  near  your 
age  will  fight  with  you,  because  it  now  makes  you 
more  useful  for  my  purpose." 

Jack  looked  astonished  again.  "  You  don't  want 
me  to  thrash  any  one,  Mr.  Merton  ?  "  he  said ;  "  be- 
cause if  you  do " 

"  No,  no,  Jack,  nothing  is  further  from  my 
thoughts.  I  want  you  to  get  the  lads  of  your  own 
age  to  join  a  night-school  and  to  become  a  more 
decent  Christian  set  of  young  fellows  than  they  are 
now.  It  is  just  because  you  can  fight  well,  and  are 
looked  up  to  by  the  lads  as  their  natural  leader,  that 
you  can  do  this.  Were  any  one  else  to  try  it  he 
would  fail.  He  would  be  regarded  as  a  milksop, 
and  be  called  a  girl,  and  a  Molly,  and  all  sorts  of 
names,  and  no  one  would  join  him.  Now  with  you 
they  can't  say  this,  and  boys  joining  would  say  to 
those  who  made  fun  of  them,  «  There's  Jack  Simp- 
son, he's  one  of  us ;  you  go  and  call  him  Molly  and 
see  what  you'll  get.'  Now  you  can  talk  to  your 
comrades,  and  point  out  to  them  the  advantages  of 
learning  and  decent  manners.  Show  that  not  only 
9 


FACING  DEATH. 

will  they  become  happier  men,  but  that  in  a  worldly 
point  of  view  they  will  benefit,  for  that  the  mine- 
owners  have  difficulty  in  getting  men  with  sufficient 
education  to  act  as  overmen  and  viewers.  Get  them 
to  agree  to  keep  from  drink  and  from  the  foul  lan- 
guage which  makes  the  streets  horrible  to  a  decent 
person.  You  can  work  a  revolution  in  the  place. 
You  won't  get  them  to  do  all  this  at  present,  but 
the  first  step  is  to  get  them  to  attend  a  night-school. 
I  have  for  the  last  year  been  thinking  over  the  mat- 
ter, and  was  intending  to  speak  to  you  about  it 
when  the  strike  began,  and  everything  else  was  put 
aside.  Now,  I  have  spoken  to  my  successor,  and 
he  is  willing,  and  indeed  anxious,  to  open  such  a 
school  if  the  young  fellows  can  be  induced  to 
come." 

Jack  sat  for  some  time  in  silence.  He  was  always 
slow  at  coming  to  a  conclusion,  and  liked  to  think 
over  every  side  of  a  question. 

•'  How  often  would  it  be  held,  sir  ? "  he  asked 
presently. 

**  Two  or  three  nights  a  week,  Jack.  Those  who 
are  anxieus  to  get  on  can  do  as  you  did,  and  work 
between  times." 

"  Two  nights  would  be  enough  at  first,"  Jack 
said ;  "  but  I  think,  yes,  I  think  I  could  get  some  of 
them  to  give  that.  Harry  Shepherd  would,  I'm 
sure,  and  Bill  Cummings,  and  Fred  Wood,  and  I 
think  five  or  six  others.  Yes,  sir,  I  think  we  could 


A  HEAVY  LOSS.  131 

Btart  it,  and  all  I  can  do  I  will.  It  would  do  a 
sight — I  mean  a  great  deal  of  good.  I'll  come  my- 
self at  first,  sir,  and  then  if  any  of  them  make  a 
noise  or"  play  games  with  the  schoolmaster  I'll  lick 
'em  next  day." 

"  No,  Jack,  I  don't  think  that  would  do,  but  your 
presence  would  no  doubt  aid  the  master  at  first, 
And  you'll  think  of  the  other  things,  Jack,  the  drink- 
ing, and  the  bad  language,  and  so  on." 

"I'll  do  what  I  can,  Mr.  Merton,"  Jack  said 
simply,  "  but  it  must  be  bit  by  bit." 

"That's  right,  Jack,  I  knew  that  I  could  rely 
cpon  you  ;  and  now  come  in  to  tea,  and  there  was 
one  thing  I  wanted  to  say ;  I  want  you  once  a 
month  to  come  over  to  me  at  Birmingham  on  Sat- 
urday afternoon  and  stay  till  Sunday  evening.  It 
will  be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  ;  I  shall  see  how  you 
are  getting  on,  and  shall  hear  all  the  news  of  Stoke« 
bridge." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  Jack  said, 
coloring  with  pleasure,  "  but  I  am  afraid  I  am  not, 
not  fit * 

"  You  are  fit  to  associate  with  any  one,  Jack,  and 
it  is  good  for  you  that  you  should  occasionally  have 
other  association  than  that  of  your  comrades  of  the 
pit  You  will  associate  with  people  of  higher  rank 
than  mine,  if  you  live,  and  it  is  well  that  you  should 
become  accustomed  to  it.  And  now,  Jack,  I  know 
you  will  not  take  it  amiss,  but  clothes  do  go  las 


1  j2  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

something,  and  I  should  advise  you  to  go  to  ft  good 
tailor's  at  Birmingham  the  first  time  you  come  over 
— I  will  obtain  the  address  of  such  an  one — and 
order  yourself  a  suit  of  well-made  clothes.  As  you 
get  on  in  life  you  will  learn  that  first  impressions  go 
a  long  way,  and  that  the  cut  of  the  clothes  have  not 
a  little  to  do  with  first  impressions.  I  shall  intro- 
duce you  to  my  friends  there,  simply  as  a  friend ; 
not  that  either  you  or  I  are  ashamed  of  your  work- 
ing in  a  pit — indeed,  that  is  your  highest  credit — 
but  it  would  spare  you  the  comments  and  silly  ques- 
tions which  would  be  put  to  you.  Now  let  us  go 
into  the  next  room.  Alice  will  be  expecting  us." 

Jack  had  taken  tea  with  Mr.  Merton  more  than 
once  since  that  first  evening  before  the  strike,  and 
was  now  much  more  at  his  ease  with  Miss  Merton, 
who,  having  heard  from  her  father  that  it  was  he 
who  saved  the  Vaughan  pit,  viewed  him  with  a 
constant  feeling  of  astonishment.  It  seemed  so 
strange  to  her  that  this  quiet  lad,  who  certainly 
stood  in  awe  of  her,  although  he  was  a  year  her 
senior,  should  have  done  such  a  daring  action ; 
equally  wonderful  to  think  that,  in  spite  of  his  well- 
chosen  words  and  the  attainments  her  father  thought 
so  highly  of,  he  was  yet  a  pit  boy,  like  the  rough, 
noisy  lads  of  the  village. 

A  week  later  Mr.  Merton  and  his  daughter  left 
Stokebridge,  and  upon  the  following  day  his  suc- 
cessor arrived,  and  Jack,  at  Mr.  Merton 's  request 


A  HEAVY  LOSS.  133 

called  upon  him  the  same  evening.  He  was  a  tall 
man  of  some  forty  years  old,  with  a  face  expressive 
of  quiet  power.  Jack  felt  at  once  that  he  should 
like  him. 

He  received  the  lad  very  kindly.  "  I  have  heard 
so  much  of  you  from  Mr.  Merton,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
am  sure  that  you  will  be  a  great  help  to  me.  Har- 
riet," he  said  to  his  wife,  a  bright-looking  woman 
of  about  thirty-five  years  old,  who  came  into  the 
room,  "  this  is  Mr.  Simpson,  of  whom  Mr.  Merton 
spoke  so  highly  to  me.  My  wife  is  going  to  have 
the  girls'  school,  have  you  heard  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,"  Jack  said  ;  "  Mr.  Merton  did  not 
mention  it." 

"  It  was  only  settled  yesterday ;  the  managers 
heard  that  my  wife  was  a  trained  mistress,  and  as 
they  were  going  to  pension  off  the  present  mistress 
they  offered  it  to  her." 

"  I  am  very  glad,'*  Jack  said,  "  for  Mrs.  White 
has  long  been  past  her  work,  and  the  girls  did 
pretty  well  as  they  liked." 

"  I  expect  to  have  some  trouble  with  them  at 
first,"  Mrs.  Dodgson  said  cheerfully.  "  I  often  tell 
my  husband  girls  are  ever  so  much  more  trouble- 
some than  boys,  but  I  dare  say  I  shall  manage  ; 
and  now,  Mr.  Simpson,  we  are  just  going  to  have 
supper,  will  you  join  us  ?  It  will  be  our  first  regu- 
lar meal  in  the  house." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  Jack  said,  coloring  and 


134  FACING  DEATH. 

hesitating,  "  but  I  think,  perhaps,  you  don't  know 
that  I  am  only  a  lad  in  the  pit." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense,"  Mrs.  Dodgson  said, "  what 
has  that  to  do  with  it  ?  Why,  Mr.  Merton  says 
that  you  will  be  John's  right  hand.  Besides,  you 
will  be  able  to  tell  us  all  about  the  people  we  shall 
have  to  do  with." 

In  another  moment  Jack  was  seated  at  table,  and 
really  enjoyed  the  meal,  lightened,  as  it  was,  by 
the  pleasant  talk  of  his  hostess,  and  the  grave  but 
not  less  kindly  conversation  of  her  husband. 


THE  NIGH  T-SC  ffOOL. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE   NIGHT-SCHOOL. 

JACK  found  that,  as  he  expected,  his  friends, 
Harry  Shepherd,  Bill  Cummings,  and  Fred  Wood. 
would  be  glad  to  attend  a  night-school,  and  to 
work  in  earnest  ;  for  the  example  of  what  Jack  had 
done  for  himself,  even  so  far  as  they  knew,  had  ex- 
cited a  strong  desire  for  improvement  among  them. 
They,  however,  were  doubtful  as  to  others,  and 
agreed  that  it  would  not  do  to  propose  it  in  a 
straight-forward  manner,  but  that  a  good  deal  of 
careful  management  would  be  necessary. 

Jack,  it  was  arranged,  should  open  the  subject 
after  leading  up  to  it  carefully.  Harry  should  be 
the  first  to  consent,  Bill  Cummings  was  to  give  in 
his  adhesion  when  we  saw  signs  of  wavering  among 
the  others,  and  Fred  Wood  to  delay  his  until  a 
moment  when  his  coming  fonvard  would  be  useful. 

The  following  Saturday,  when  many  oi  them 
were  always  together,  should  be  the  occasion,  and 
Fred  Wood  was  to  lead  up  to  the  matter  by  ask- 
ing Jack  some  questions  as  to  the  relative  bignesf 
of  the  earth  and  the  sun. 


136  FACING  DEATH. 

Saturday  came,  the  lads  gathered  in  a  field  wnicn 
belonged  to  the  Vaughan,  and  upon  which  a  great 
tip  of  rubbish  and  shale  was  gradually  encroach- 
ing. Here  choosing  sides  they  played  at  rounders 
for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  then  flung  themselves 
down  on  the  grass.  Some  of  them  lighted  pipes, 
and  all  enjoyed  the  quiet  of  the  fine  autumn  even- 
ing. 

Presently  Fred  Wood  artfully  fired  off  the  ques- 
tions he  had  prepared,  which  Jack  answered. 

"  What  a  sight  o'  things  thou  know'st,  Jack  1  " 
Bill  Cummings  said. 

"  I  don't  know  much  yet,  Bill,  but  I  hopes  to 
know  a  goodish  deal  some  day." 

"  And  thou  really  lik'st  reading,  Jack  ?  I  hate 
it,"  John  Jordan  said. 

"  I  didn't  like  it  ower  much  at  first,"  Jack  an- 
swered, "  but  as  I  got  on  I  liked  it  more  and  more. 
I  wish  you  chaps  had  the  chances  I  had.  It  isnt 
every  one  who  would  take  the  pains  wi'  a  fellow  as 
Merton  took  wi'  me." 

"  What  ud  be  t'  good  o't  ? "  John  Jordan  asked. 
"  I  cloan't  see  no  good  in  knowing  that  t'  sun  be  a 
hundred  thousand  times  as  big  as  t'  world." 

"  There's  use  in  a  great  deal  o'  what  one  gets  to 
know  though,"  Jack  said  ;  '*  not  so  much  now  as 
some  day,  maybe.  A  chap  as  has  some  sort  o' 
edication  has  chances  over  another  «'  being  chosen 
as  a  viewer  or  an  oversman." 


ttiE  NIGHT-SCHOOL  137 

'"  Oh  I  that's  what  thou  be'st  looking  forward  to, 
Jack,  eh  ?  Well,  there's  summat  in  that,  and  I 
shouldna'  wonder  if  we  see  thee  that  some  day ;  but 
we  can't  all  be  oversmen." 

"  Not  in  the  Vaughan,"  Jack  said  ;  "  but  there's 
plenty  o'  other  pits,  and  a  chap  as  has  got  his  head 
screwed  on  straight,  and  can  write  well  and  figure 
a  bit,  and  have  read  up  his  work,  may  always  look 
forward  to  getting  a  step  up  wherever  he  goes.  Be- 
sides, look  at  the  difference  it  makes  to  the  pleas- 
ures o'  life.  What  has  a  man  got  to  do  who  ain't 
learnt  to  be  fond  ©'reading?  Nowt  but  to  go  to 
t'  public  to  spend  his  evenings  and  drink  away  his 
earnings.  So  'ee  goes  on,  and  his  woife  doan't 
care  about  taking  pains  about  a  house  when  t' 
maiiter  ain't  never  at  home  but  to  his  meals,  and 
his  children  get  to  look  for  him  coming  home  drunk 
and  smashing  the  things,  and  when  he  gets  old  he's 
just  a  broken-down  drunkard,  wi'out  a  penny  saved, 
and  nowt  but  the  poorhouse  before  him.  Now, 
that's  the  sort  o'  life  o'  a  man  who  can't  read,  or 
can't  read  well  enough  to  take  pleasure  in  it,  has 
before  him.  That  is  so,  bean't  it  ?  " 

There  was  a  long  silence  ;  all  the  lads  knew  that 
the  picture  was  a  true  one. 

"  Now  look  at  t'other  side,"  Jack  went  on  ;  "look 
at  Merton.  He  didn't  get  moore  pay  a  week  than 
a  pitman  does  ;  look  how  he  lived,  how  comfort- 
able everything  was!  What  a  home  that  ud  be 


i^S  FACING 

for  a  man  to  go  back  to  after  his  work  was  done  \ 
Noice  furniture,  a  wife  looking  forward  neat  and 
tidy  to  your  coming  hoam  for  the  evening.  Your 
food  all  comfortable,  the  kids  clean  and  neat,  and 
delighted  to  see  feyther  home." 

There  was  again  a  long  silence.  , 

"  Where  be  the  girls  to  make  the  tidy  wife  a' 
cooming  from,  I  wonder  ?  "  John  Jordan  said  ;  "  not 
in  Stokebridge,  I  reckon  !  " 

"The  lasses  take  mostly  after  the  lads,"  Jack 
said.  "  If  we  became  better  they'd  be  ashamed  to 
lag  behind.  Mrs.  Dodgson,  the  new  schoolmaister's 
wife,  told  me  t'other  day  she  thought  o'  opening  a 
sort  o'  night  class  for  big  girls,  to  teach  'em  sewing, 
and  making  their  own  clothes,  and  summat  about 
cooking,  and  such  like." 

"  That  would  be  summat  like,"  said  Harry  Shep- 
herd, who  saw  that  his  opportunity  had  come.  "  I 
wonder  whether  t'  maister  would  open  a  night- 
school  for  us ;  I'd  go  for  one,  quick  enough.  I 
doan't  know  as  I've  rightly  thought  it  over  before, 
but  now  ye  puts  it  in  that  way,  Jack,  there  be  no 
doubt  i'  my  moind  that  I  should ;  it  would  be  a 
heap  better  to  get  some  laming,  and  to  live  like  a 
decent  kind  o'  chap." 

"  I  doan't  know,"  John  Jordan  said ;  "  it  moight 
be  better,  but  look  what  a  lot  o'  work  one  ud  have 
to  do." 

f*  Well,  John,  I  always  finds  plenty  o'  time  for 


THE  NIGHT-SCHOOL.  139 

play,"  Jack  said.  "  You  could  give  an  hour  a  day 
to  it,  and  now  the  winter's  coming  on  you'd  be 
main  glad  sometimes  as  you'd  got  summat  to  do.  I 
should  ha*  to  talk  to  the  schoolmaister  a  bit.  I 
doan't  know  as  he'd  be  willing  to  give  up  his  time 
of  an  evening  two  or  three  evenings  a  week,  say 
two,  when  he's  been  at  work  all  day.  It  be  a  good 
deal  to  ask  a  man,  that  is." 

"  It  be,  surely,"  Harry  said  ;  "  but  what  a  sight 
o'  good  it  would  do,  and  if  his  woife  be  willing  to 
give  oop  har  time  to  the  girls,  maybe  he  would  do 
as  much  for  us."  There  was  a  pause  again.  Sev- 
eral of  the  lads  looked  irresolute. 

"Well,"  Bill  Cummings  said,  "I  be  ready  for 
another  if  some  more  of  'ee  will  join't."  The  ex- 
ample was  contagious.  Four  others  agreed  to  join. 

"  Come,"  Harry  Shepherd  said,  "  it  bean't  no  use 
if  Jack  can't  tell  schoolmaister  that  a  dozen  o*  u3 
will  come  in  ef  he  will  open  a  school  two  nights  a 
week.  You'll  join,  woan't  you,  Fred  Wood  ? " 

"  Oi  allers  hated  my  books,"  Fred  said,  "  and 
used  to  be  bottom  o'  class.  It  ain't  as  I  doan't  be- 
lieve what  Jack  Simpson  says ;  there  be  no  doubt 
as  it  would  be  a  sight  better  lookout  if  one  got  to  be 
fond  o'  books,  and  such  loike.  I  doan't  believe  a3 
ever  I  shall  be,  but  I  doan't  mind  giving  it  a  trial 
for  six  months,  and  if  at  the  end  o'  that  time  I 
doan't  like  it,  why  I  jacks  it  oop." 

The  adhesion  of  this  seemingly  reluctant  recruh 


/40  FACING  DEATH. 

settled  the  matter.  Even  John  Jordan  yielded  upon 
the  same  terms,  and  the  whole  party,  fifteen  in 
number,  put  down  their  names,  and  Jack  Simpson 
undertook  to  speak  to  Mr.  Dodgson. 

"  See  how  we  shall  get  laughed  at,"  John  Jordan 
said.  "  Why,  we  shall  get  made  fun  o'  by  the 
whole  place." 

"  Let  'em  laugh,"  Jack  said,  "  they  won't  laugh 
long.  I  never  was  laughed  at,  and  why  should 
you  be  ?  They  canna  call  us  Jennies,  for  we  six- 
teen will  play  any  sixteen  wi'in  five  miles  round,  at 
any  game  they  like,  or  fight  'em  if  it  comes  to  that. 
We  has  only  got  to  stick  together.  I  shan't  be  one 
of  the  night-school,  but  I  am  one  wi'  you,  and  we'll 
just  stick  together.  Don't  let  us  mind  if  they  do 
laugh ;  if  they  go  on  at  it,  and  I  doubt  they  will, 
just  offer  to  fight  any  one  your  own  size,  and  if  he 
be  bigger  than  you  like  I'll  take  him  in  hand." 

"  That's  it,"  Harry  Shepherd  said  enthusiasti- 
cally ;  "  we'll  stick  together,  and  you  see  how  we'll 
get  on ;  and  look  here,  I  vote  we  each  pay  three- 
pence a  week  that  will  get  us  a  room  at  two  bob, 
and  candles.  Then  we  can  work  a*  night  wi'out 
being  disturbed." 

"  This  be  a  good  idea  o'  thine,  Harry.  I'll  give 
my  threepence  a  week  as  well  as  the  rest,  and  I'll 
come  in  on  the  nights  when  you  don't  go  to  school 
and  help  any  that  wants  it." 

"Yes,"  BUI  Cummings  said,  "and  ^e'H  send 


THE  NIGHT-SCHOOL.  141 

round  challenges  to  the  other  pits  to  play  football  and 
rounders.  I  vote  we  call  ourselves  the  *  Bulldogs,1 
and  Jack  shall  be  our  captain." 

The  proposition  was  carried  with  unanimity,  and 
the  "  Bull-dogs"  became  a  body  from  that  time. 
Harry  was  appointed  treasurer,  and  the  first  week's 
subscriptions  were  paid  forthwith,  and  an  hour 
later  a  room  was  hired. 

"  Hullo  1  "  Fred  Wood  said,  as  they  poured  in 
and  took  possession  ;  "  we  forgot  furniture.  We 
must  have  a  table  and  some  benches." 

"  It  is  the  captain's  duty  to  provide  furniture," 
Jack  said.  "  I  will  get  a  big  table  and  some  benches 
on  Monday,  and  then  we'll  draw  up  rules  and  get 
'em  framed  and  hung  over  the  fireplace,  then  we 
shall  be  all  in  order." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  happy  than  this 
plan  of  starting  a  club ;  it  gave  all  the  members  a 
lively  interest  in  the  matter,  and  united  them  by  a 
bond  which  would  keep  the  lazy  and  careless  from 
hanging  back,  and  it  was  quite  with  a  sense  of 
excitement  that  they  met  on  the  Monday  evening. 

Jack  had  got  a  large  table  and  some  benches. 
Inkstands,  slates,  paper,  and  pencils  were  on  the 
table,  and  four  candles  were  burning.  He  took  the 
place  of  honor  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  the 
others,  much  pleased  with  the  appearance  of  the 
room,  took  their  seats  round  the  table. 

**  In  the  first  place,"  Jack  said,  striking  the  table 


I42  FACING 

with  his  hst  to  call  for  order,"  I  have  to  report  to 
you  that  I  ha*  seen  the  schoolmaister,  and  he  says 
that  he  will  willingly  give  two  hours  two  nights  a 
week  to  teaching  the  '  Bull-dogs.'  " 

This  announcement  was  received  with  great  ap- 
plause, for  the  lads  had  all  become  deeply  interested 
in  the  matter. 

"  He  says  Tuesdays  and  Fridays  will  suit  him, 
from  seven  till  nine ;  and  I  have,  in  your  name,  ac- 
cepted with  very  many  thanks  his  offer ;  for,  lads, 
it  be  no  light  thing  that  a  man  who  has  been  all 
day  teaching  should  give  up  two  evenings  a  week 
to  help  us  on,  and  that  wi'out  charge  or  payment." 

"  That's  so,  Jack  1  "  Fred  Wood  said.  "  I  vote 
we  pass  a  vote  o'  thanks  to  Mr.  Dodgson." 

There  was  a  chorus  of  approval. 

"  Some  one  ha'  got  to  second  that  proposal," 
Jack  said ;  "  we  must  do  things  in  the  proper  form." 

"  I  second  it,"  John  Jordan  said. 

"  Very  well,"  Jack  said,  "  are  you  all  agreed  ?  " 
«  All."  "Very  well,  then,  I'll  write  that  out  neatly 
in  this  book  I  ha'  bought  to  keep  the  records  o'  the 
club,  and  I'll  send  a  copy  to  Mr.  Dodgson ;  I'm 
sure  he  will  be  pleased.  I  had  best  act  as  secretary 
as  well  as  captain  at  present,  till  one  o'  you  gets  on 
wi'  his  writing  and  can  take  it  off  my  hands.  Now 
we  must  draw  out  our  rules.  First,  we  must  put 
down  that  the  following  are  the  original  members  of 
the  Bull-dog  Club.  Then,  that  the  objects  of  the 


THE  NIGHT-SCHOOL.  143 

club  are  to  improve  ourselves,  and  to  make  decent 
men  o'  ourselves.  Next,  to  stick  together  in  a  body 
and  to  play  all  sorts  o'  games  against  any  other 
set.  All  that's  been  agreed,  ain't  it  ?  " 

There  were  cries  of  "  Aye,  aye,"  and  Jack  wrote 
down  the  items  on  the  sheet  of  paper  before 
him. 

"  Now  about  new  members.  Do  we  mean  to  keep 
it  to  ourselves,  or  to  let  in  other  chaps  ?  " 

"  Keep  it  to  ourselves,"  shouted  several. 

"  Well,  I  dunno,"  Harry  Shepherd  said  ;  "  if  this 
is  going  to  do  us  as  much  good  as  we  hopes,  and 
think  it  is,  would  it  be  right  to  keep  the  chaps  o'  the 
place  out  ?  O'  course  we  wouldn't  go  beyond  Stoke- 
bridge,  but  we  might  keep  it  to  that." 

That  point  was  hotly  debated,  the  majority  being 
in  favor  of  confining  the  club  to  its  present  mem- 
bers ;  some  saying  that  if  it  were  opened  the  origi- 
nal members  would  be  swamped  by  numbers,  and 
that  their  bond  of  union  would  be  broken. 

When  all  had  spoken  Jack  Simpson  said  : 

"  I  think  we  might  go  between  both  opinions.  If 
we  were  to  limit  the  club  to  twenty-four  members, 
this  room  would  just  about  hold  'em.  We  would 
only  elect  one  each  week,  so  as  to  have  time  to 
make  a  good  choice.  Any  member  who  broke  the 
rules  or  made  himself  unpleasant  would  be  expelled, 
and  so  we  should  see  in  awhile  all  the  young  chaps 
o'  f  village  wanting  to  Join,  and  it  would  get  to  be 


144  FACING  DEATH. 

looked  upon  as  a  feather  in  a  chap's  cap  to  belong 
to  it." 

This  proposal  was  agreed  to  unanimously. 

"Now  the  next  rule  I  propose,"  Jack  said,  "is 
that  this  room  is  to  be  used  from  seven  to  nine  for 
work.  No  talking  to  be  allowed.  Arter  nine,  books 
to  be  put  away  and  pipes  to  be  lit  by  them  as  smoke, 
and  to  talk  till  ten.  I  ha'  been  talking  to  the  woman 
o'  the  house,  and  she  will  supply  cups  o'  coffee  or 
tea  at  a  penny  apiece  between  nine  and  ten." 

This  rule  was  agreed  to  without  a  dissentient  voice. 

"  Now,"  Jack  said,  "  I  doan't  know  as  you'll  all 
like  the  next  rule  I  ha'  to  propose,  but  I  do  think  it 
is  a  needful  one.  That  is,  that  no  swearing  or  bad 
language  be  used  in  this  room,  a  fine  of  a  penny 
being  inflicted  for  each  time  the  rule  be  broken." 

There  was  a  dead  silence. 

"  You  see,"  Jack  said,  "  you  will  all  be  fined  a 
few  times  at  first,  but  this  money  will  go  to  the 
club  fund,  and  will  help  up  to  get  fires  i*  winter. 
You'll  soon  break  yourselves  of  it,  it  be  only  a  trick. 
I  did.  -Mr.  Merton  told  me  that  it  was  a  bad  habit 
and  horrible  to  decent  people.  I  said  I  could  never 
break  myself  o't.  He  said  if  I  fined  myself  a  penny 
every  time  I  did  it,  and  put  it  in  the  poor  box  o' 
Sunday,  I  should  soon  get  out  o' t'  way.  Well,  the 
first  day  cost  me  thirteen  pence,  the  next  fourpence, 
and  afterward  it  was  only  a  penny  now  and  then. 
First  and  last  it  didn't  cost  me  half  a  crown,  and 


THE  KIGHT3CHOOL.  145 

you  never  hear  me  swear  or  use  bad  language  now. 
Come,  Bull-dogs,  this  will  be  the  first  step  toward 
improving  yourselves,  and  when  you  find  how  easy 
it  be  to  do  wi'out  it  here,  you  will  soon  do  wi'out  it 
outside." 

The  rule  was  finally  agreed  to,  but  during  the 
first  week  it  caused  a  good  deal  of  heart-burning  in 
the  club.  One  of  the  members  left  altogether,  but 
the  rest  soon  found  that  the  fines,  which  had  been 
so  alarming  for  the  first  day  or  two,  dwindled  down. 

It  cost  the  Bull-dogs  collectively  over  three  pounds 
to  cure  themselves  of  using  bad  language,  and  the 
fines  kept  them  in  firing,  paper,  pens,  and  ink  all 
the  winter. 

On  the  evening  after  the  opening  of  the  club-room 
the  whole  party,  accompanied  by  Jack,  went  to  the 
night-school.  They  looked  rather  shame-faced  as 
they  tramped  in,  but  Jack  introduced  them  one  by 
one  to  the  master,  who  with  a  few  cordial  words  put 
them  at  their  ease.  For  the  first  night  he  contented 
himself  by  finding  out  how  much  each  knew,  how 
much  he  remembered  of  what  he  had  formerly  heard. 
For  the  last  half-hour  he  gave  them  a  short  lecture 
on  geography,  drawing  a  map  on  the  blackboard, 
taking  a  traveler  from  place  to  place,  and  telling  them 
what  he  saw  there.  Then  he  set  them  each  a  task 
to  be  learned  and  a  few  sums  to  be  done  by  the 
following  Friday,  and  they  returned  to  the  club-room 
greatly  pleased  with  the  first  night's  lessons. 
19 


1 46  FA  CING  DEA  777. 

It  was  not  always  so  light,  but  the  lads  were  in 
earnest  and  really  worked  hard.  Jack  visited  the 
room  on  the  off  nights,  explained  questions  they 
did  not  understand,  and  after  nine  o'clock  generally 
read  aloud  for  half  an  hour  while  they  smoked  ;  that 
is  to  say,  he  read  short  sentences  and  then  one  or 
other  read  them  after  him,  Jack  correcting  mistakes 
in  dialect  and  pronunciation. 

Mr.  Merton  had  indeed  been  a  friend  to  Jack  Simp- 
son, but  there  was  another  friend  to  whom,  according 
to  his  promise,  Jack  reported  his  doings,  not  telling 
everything,  perhaps,  for  Jack  was  not  very  apt  to 
talk  or  write  about  himself  ;  but  once  a  year  he  sent 
a  letter  in  reply  to  a  long  and  wise  one  which'  he  re- 
ceived from  his  friend  the  artist,  according  to  their 
agreement,  for  Jack  had  not  "given  up.'' 

Before  the  end  of  a  month  Mr.  Dodgson  wrote  to 
Mr.  Merton,  saying  that,  thanks  to  Jack,  the  night- 
school  was  a  great  success,  that  the  lads  all  behaved 
extremely  well,  and  were  making  really  surprising 
efforts  to  improve  themselves.  He  augured  great 
things  for  the  village  from  the  movement. 


THE  SEWING  CLASS.  147 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    SEWING   CLASS. 

STOKEBRIDGE  contained  altogether  a  population 
of  some  three  thousand  souls,  of  whom  more  than 
half  consisted  of  the  men  and  boys  of  the  Vaughan 
mine,  and  the  families  dependent  upon  them.  It 
was  a  place  where,  except  as  to  accidents  at  one  or 
other  of  the  pits,  news  was  scarce,  and  a  small 
thing  therefore  created  much  interest.  Thus  the 
news  that  the  new  schoolmaster  had  opened  a 
night-school,  and  that  some  sixteen  or  eighteen  of 
the  lads  belonging  to  the  Vaughan  had  joined  it, 
created  quite  an  excitement.  At  first  the  state- 
ment was  received  with  positive  disbelief.  There 
was  no  precedent  for  such  a  thing,  and  in  its  ways 
at  least  Stokebridge  was  strictly  conservative. 

When  the  tale  was  confirmed  wonder  took  the 
place  of  unbelief.  The  women  were  unanimous  in 
the  opinion  that  if  the  school  only  kept  the  lads 
from  drink  it  would  be  a  blessing  to  the  place. 
Drink  was  indeed  the  grand  test  by  which  they 
viewed  all  things.  To  anything  which  led  lads  to 
avoid  this  curse  of  their  homes  their  approval 


I48  FACING  DEAT&. 

certain  and  complete.  Whether  the  acquisition  of 
learning  was  likely  to  improve  their  prospects  in 
life,  or  to  make  them  better  men,  was  not  consid- 
ered ;  the  great  point  about  the  new  organization 
was  that  it  would  keep  them  from  the  public  houses, 
the  curses  of  the  workingmen,  and  still  more  of 
the  workingmen's  wives  and  families,  of  this  coun- 
try. 

Among  the  men,  who  were,  however,  disposed  to 
view  the  matter  as  a  boy's  fancy  which  would  soon 
die  away,  the  movement  met  with  slight  approval. 
New-fangled  notions  were  held  in  but  low  estima- 
tion among  the  miners  of  Stokebridge.  They  had 
got  on  wi'out  laming,  and  saw  no  reason  why  t*  lads 
could  not  do  as  they  had  done.  "  They'll  be  a 
cocking  they  noses  oop  aboove  their  feythers,  joost 
acause  they  know  moore  reading  and  writing,  but 
what  good  ull  it  do  they  I  wonder  ?  "  an  elderly  pit- 
man asked  a  circle  of  workmen  at  the  "  Chequers  " ; 
and  a  general  affirmatory  grunt  betokened  assent 
with  the  spirit  of  his  words. 

Among  the  young  men,  those  of  from  eighteen  to 
twenty-three  or  twenty-four,  the  opposition  was  still 
stronger,  for  here  a  strong  feeling  of  jealousy  was 
aroused  at  the  thought  that  their  juniors  were, 
as  they  considered,  stealing  a  march  upon  them. 
Gibes  and  jeers  were  showered  upon  the  "  Bull-dogs," 
and  two  of  them  were  ducked  in  the  canal  by  a 
party  of  five  or  six  of  their  elders.  On  scrambling 


THE  SEWING  CLASS.  149 

out,  however,  they  ran  back  to  the  village,  and  the 
rest  of  the  party,  headed  by  Jack,  at  once  started 
on  the  warpath.  Coming  up  to  the  band  who  had 
assaulted  their  comrades  they  fell  upon  them  with 
fury,  and  in  spite  of  the  latter's  superior  individual 
strength,  thrashed  them  soundly,  and  .then  gave 
them  a  ducking  in  the  canal,  similar  to  that  which 
they  had  inflicted.  After  that  it  came  to  be  under- 
stood in  Stokebridge  that  it  was  best  to  leave  the 
Bull-dogs  alone,  or  at  least  to  be  content  with  ver- 
bal assaults,  at  which  indeed  the  lads  were  able  to 
hold  their  own. 

But  it  was  among  the  girls  of  Stokebridge,  those 
of  from  fourteen  to  seventeen  years  old,  that  this 
movement  upon  the  part  of  the  boys  excited  the 
greatest  discussion  and  the  widest  divergence  of 
opinion.  Up  to  the  time  of  the  strike  Jack  Simp- 
son had  been  by  no  means  popular  among  their 
class.  It  was  an  anomaly  in  Stokebridge  that  a  lad 
should  have  no  avowed  favorite  of  his  own  age 
among  the  lasses.  These  adhesions  were  not  often 
of  a  permanent  character,  although  later  on  some- 
times marriages  came  of  them,  but  for  a  time,  and 
until  the  almost  inevitable  quarrel  came,  they  were 
regarded  as  binding.  The  lad  would  sometimes 
buy  a  ribbon  or  neckerchief  for  the  lass,  and  she 
and  two  or  three  others  would  accompany  him  as 
with  some  of  his  comrades  he  strolled  in  the  lanes 
on  Sunday,  or  would  sit  by  him  on  a  wall  or  a 


150  FACING  DEATH. 

balk  of  timber  as  he  smoked  and  talked  with  his 
friends. 

Jack's  rigid  seclusion  after  his  hour  of  play  was 
over,  his  apparent  indifference  to  the  lasses  of  the 
place,  was  felt  as  a  general  slight,  and  resented  ac- 
cordingly ;  although  the  girls  were  not  insensible  to 
his  prowess  in  battle  and  in  sports,  to  his  quiet 
steadiness  of  character,  or  to  the  frankness  and 
good  temper  of  his  face.  The  general  opinion, 
therefore,  among  the  young  girls  of  Stokebridge 
was  that  he  was  "  stuck  up,"  although  in  fact  few 
boys  in  the  place  had  less  of  conceit  and  self-glori- 
fication than  he  had. 

f  Did  'ee  ever  hear  of  such  a  tale,"  asked  one  of 
a  group  of  girls  sitting  together  on  a  bank,  while 
the  little  ones,  of  whom  they  were  supposed  to  be 
in  charge,  played  and  rolled  on  the  grass,  "  as  for  a 
lot  o'  boys  to  go  to  school  again  o'  their  own  free- 
will?" 

"  I  don't  see  no  good  in  it,"  another  said,  "  not 
for  the  schooling  they'll  get.  But  if  it  teaches  them 
to  keep  out  o'  the  publics,  it  will  be  good  for  theii 
wives  some  day." 

"  It  will  that,"  put  in  another  earnestly  ;  "  my  t 
how  feyther  did  beat  mother  last  night ;  he  were  as 
drunk  as  could  be,  and  he  went  on  awful." 

"  I  think  sometimes  men  are  worse  nor  beasts," 
another  said. 

"  Do  'ee  know  I've  heard,"  Sarah  Shepherd  said, 


THE  SEWING  CLASS.  l$l 

"  that  the  new  schoolmistress  be  a-going  to  open  a 
night-school  for  girls,  to  teach  sewing,  and  cutting 
out,  and  summat  o'  cooking  ? "  There  was  a  general 
exclamation  of  astonishment,  and  so  strange  was 
the  news  that  it  was  some  time  before  any  one 
ventured  a  comment  on  it. 

"  What  dost  think  o't  ?  "  Sarah  questioned  at  last 

"  Only  sewing  and  cutting  out  and  cooking  and 
such  like,  and  not  lessons  ? "  Bess  Thompson  asked 
doubtfully. 

"  Not  reg'lar  lessons,  I  mean.  She'll  read  out 
while  the  girls  work,  and  perhaps  they  will  read 
out  by  turns ;  not  lessons,  you  know,  but  stories  and 
tales,  and  travels,  and  that  kind  o'  book.  What 
dost  think  o't  ?  " 

"  Twould  be  a  good  thing  to  know  how  to  make 
dresses,"  Fanny  Jones,  who  was  fond  of  finery,  re- 
marked. 

"  And  other  things  too,"  put  in  Peggy  Martin, 
"  and  to  cook  too.  Mother  ain't  a  good  hand  at 
cooking  and  it  puts  feyther  in  such  tempers,  and 
sometimes  I  -hardly  wonder.  I  shall  go  if  some 
others  go.  But  be'est  sure  it  be  true,  Sally  ?  " 

"  Harry  told  me,"  she  said,  "  and  I  think  Jack 
Simpson  told  him  as  the  schoolmaster  said  so." 

The  news  was  too  important  to  be  kept  to  them- 
selves, and  there  was  soon  a  general  move  homeward. 

There  Sally  Shepherd's  story  received  confirma- 
tion. The  schoolmistress  had  been  going  from  house 


i$4  FACING 

to  house,  asking  all  the  women  who  had  daughters 
between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and  eighteen  to  let 
them  attend  a  working  class  in  the  schoolroom  two 
evenings  a  week,  and  the  answer  she  almost  always 
received  was,  "  Well,  I  ha'  no  objections  to  my  lass 
going  if  she  be  willing  ;  and  I  think  it  would  be 
very  good  for  her  to  know  how  to  make  her  clothes ; 
I  can  hardly  do  a  stitch  myself." 

Mrs.  Dogdson  had  also  informed  the  women  that 
any  of  them  who  liked  to  supply  the  material  for 
undergarments  or  for  children's  dresses  could  have 
them  for  the  present  made  up  without  charge  by 
the  class. 

"  But  suppose  they  spiles  'em  ?  " 

"  They  won't  spoil  them.  The  work  may  not  be 
very  neat  at  first,  but  the  things  will  be  well  cut 
out  and  strongly  put  together.  I  will  see  to  that." 

In  a  short  time  t-he  class  was  opened,  and  forty 
girls  at  once  attended.  So  pleased  were  these  with 
their  teacher,  and  with  the  pleasant  books  that  Mr. 
Dodgson  read  to  them — for  his  wife  was  far  too 
much  occupied  to  read,  and  too  wise  to  give  the 
girls  a  distaste  for  the  class  by  asking  them  to  do 
so — that  the  number  of  applicants  for  admission 
soon  far  exceeded  the  number  who  could  be 
received. 

Mr.  Brook  heard  shortly  afterward  from  Mr. 
Dogdson  of  the  success  of  the  scheme  and  the  great 
benefit  which  was  likely  to  accrue  from  it,  and  at 


THE  SEWING  CLASS.  153 

once  offered  to  contribute  twenty  pounds  a  year  to 
secure  the  services  of  a  young  woman  capable  of 
assisting  in  the  girls'  school  by  day  and  of  teaching 
needlework. 

Thenceforth  the  number  of  class  evenings  was 
raised  to  three  a  week,  and  sixty  girls  in  all  were 
admitted.  The  books  chosen  for  reading  were  not 
always  tales,  but  for  a  portion  of  each  evening 
books  treating  on  domestic  matters,  the  care  of  a 
house,  the  management  of  illness,  cottage  garden- 
ing, etc.,  were  read ;  and  these  were  found  greatly 
to  interest  the  hearers.  The  book  on  gardening 
was  a  special  favorite,  and  soon  the  pitmen  were 
astonished  to  see  changes  in  the  tiny  plots  of  ground 
behind  their  houses.  The  men  in  charge  of  the  pit 
horses  were  coaxed  for  baskets  of  manure,  pennies 
were  saved  and  devoted  to  the  purchase  of  seed, 
and  the  boys  found  that  the  most  acceptable  pres- 
ent was  no  longer  a  gay  handkerchief  or  ribbon, 
but  a  pot  of  flowers. 

Revolutions  are  not  made  in  a  day,  but  as  month 
passed  after  month  the  change  in  Stokebridge  be- 
came marked.  The  place  assumed  a  smarter  and 
brighter  aspect ;  it  was  rare  to  hear  bad  language 
from  lads  or  girls  in  the  streets,  for  the  young  ones 
naturally  followed  the  fashion  set  by  their  elder 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  as  a  foul  expression  not  un- 
frequently  cost  its  utterer  a  cuff  on  the  head,  they 
soon  became  rare. 


154  FACING  DEATH. 

The  girls  became  more  quiet  in  demeanor,  neata 
in  dress,  the  boys  less  noisy  and  aggressive. 

The  boys'  night-school  had  increased  greatly  in 
number.  The  Bull-dogs,  after  much  deliberation, 
had  declined  to  increase  their  numbers,  but  at  Jack 
Simpson's  suggestion  it  had  been  agreed  that  any  of 
them  might  join  other  similar  associations,  in  order 
that  these  might  be  conducted  on  the  same  lines  as 
their  own,  and  the  benefits  of  which  they  were  con- 
scious be  thus  distributed  more  widely.  Four  other 
"  clubs  "  were  in  consequence  established,  all  look- 
ing upon  the  Bull-dogs  as  their  central  association. 
The  vicar  of  the  parish  aided  the  efforts  of  the  school 
master  and  mistress  for  the  improvement  of  the  ris- 
ing generation  of  Stokebridge.  Hitherto  all  efforts 
that  way  had  failed,  but  he  now  got  over  a  magic 
lantern  from  Birmingham,  hiring  sets  of  slides  of 
scenery  in  foreign  countries,  astronomical  subjects, 
etc.,  and  gave  lectures  once  a  fortnight.  These 
were  well  attended,  and  the  quiet  attention  with 
which  he  was  listened  to  by  the  younger  portion  of 
his  audience  contrasted  so  strongly  with  the  indif- 
ference or  uproar  with  which  a  similar  attempt  had 
been  met  some  two  years  before  that  he  told  Mr. 
Brook  something  like  a  miracle  was  being  wrought 
in  the  parish. 

Mr.  Brook  warmly  congratulated  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dodgson  on  the  change,  but  these  frankly  said  that 
although  they  had  done  their  best,  the  change  was 


THE  SEWING  CLASS. 

hi  ho  slight  degree  due  to  the  influence  of  one  of 
the  pit  lads,  with  whom  Mr.  Merton  had  taken 
great  pains,  and  who  was  certainly  a  remarkable 
lad. 

"  Ah,  indeed,  "  Mr.  Brook  said.  "  I  have  a  faint 
recollection  of  his  speaking  to  me  some  years  ago  of 
one  of  the  boys  ;  and,  now  I  thinK  of  it,  he  is  the 
same  boy  who  behaved  so  bravely  in  going  down 
that  old  shaft  to  save  another  boy's  life.  The  men 
gave  him  a  gold  watch  ;  of  course,  I  remember  all 
about  it  now.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  he  is  turning 
out  so  well.  In  a  few  years  I  must  see  what  I  can 
do  for  him." 

Mr.  Dogdson  would  have  said  much  more,  but 
Mr.  Merton  had  impressed  upon  him  that  JacK 
would  object,  above  all  things,  to  be  brought  for- 
ward, and  that  it  was  better  to  let  him  work  his 
way  steadily  and  bide  his  time. 

It  was  not  for  some  months  after  the  sewing 
classes  had  been  instituted  that  those  for  cooking 
were  established.  The  difficulty  was  not  as  to  the 
necessary  outlay  for  stoves  and  utensils,  for  these 
Mr.  Brook  at  once  offered  to  provide,  but  as  to  the 
food  to  be  cooked. 

The  experiments  began  on  a  small  scale.  At  first 
Mrs.  Dodgson  sent  round  to  say  that  in  all  cases  of 
illness  she  would  have  broths,  puddings,  and  cool- 
ing drinks  prepared  at  the  school  free  of  charge, 
upon  the  necessary  materials  being  sent  to  her. 


156  FACING  DEATH. 

This  was  followed  by  the  plan  of  buying  the  ma- 
terials for  food  for  invalids,  which  was  to  be  sup- 
plied at  a  price  that  just  paid  the  cost.  Then  little 
steak  puddings  and  pies  were  made,  and  these  com- 
manded a  ready  sale;  excellent  soups  from  cheap 
materials  were  also  provided,  and  for  this  in  winter 
the  demand  was  greater  than  they  could  supply; 
and  so  the  work  was  extended  until  the  two  stoves 
were  fully  occupied  for  three  days  a  week. 

Eight  girls  at  a  time  were  instructed  in  cookery, 
doing  the  whole  work  under  the  supervision  of  the 
mistress.  Two  fresh  hands  came  as  two  left  each 
week ;  thus  each  received  a  month's  teaching.  On 
the  first  week  the  newcomers  simply  cleaned  and 
washed  the  utensils,  stoves,  etc.,  during  the  remain- 
ing three  weeks  they  learned  to  make  simple  soups, 
puddings,  and  pies,  to  cook  meat  and  vegetables. 
The  time  was  short  for  the  purpose,  but  the  girls 
were  delighted  with  their  lessons,  and  took  the 
greatest  pride  in  keeping  up  the  reputation  of  the 
school  kitchens,  and  learned  at  any  rate  sufficient  to 
enable  them  to  assist  their  mothers  at  home  with 
such  effect  that  the  pitmen  of  Stokebridge  were  as- 
tonished at  the  variety  and  improvement  of  their 
fare. 


A  NEW  UF&  159 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A    NEW     LIFE. 

JACK  SIMPSON  did  not  forget  the  advice  Mr.  Mer« 
ton  had  given  him  about  clothes,  and  a  fortnight 
after  his  master  had  gone  to  Birmingham  Jack  went 
over  on  Saturday  afternoon,  and  his  kind  friend 
accompanied  him  to  one  of  the  leading  tailors  there, 
and  he  was  measured  for  two  suits  of  clothes.  He 
went  to  other  shops  and  bought  such  articles  as  Mr. 
Merton  recommended — hats,  gloves,  boots,  etc. 
Mr.  Merton  smiled  to  himself  at  the  grave  attention 
which  Jack  paid  to  all  he  said  upon  the  subject ; 
but  Jack  was  always  earnest  in  all  he  undertook, 
and  he  had  quite  appreciated  what  his  friend  had 
told  him  as  to  the  advantage  of  being  dressed  so  as 
to  excite  no  attention  upon  the  part  of  those  whom 
he  would  meet  at  Mr.  Merton's. 

The  following  Saturday  he  went  over  again,  and 
went  again  to  the  tailor's  to  try  his  things  on. 

"  Do  you  want  a  dress  suit,  sir  ?  "  the  foreman 
asked  with  suppressed  merriment. 

"  What  is  a  dress  suit  ?  "  Jack  said  simply.  •*  I 
am  ignorant  about  these  matters.** 


1 58  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

"  A  dress  suit,"  the  foreman  said,  struck  with 
the  young  fellow's  freedom  from  all  sort  of  pretense 
or  assumption,  "  is  the  dress  gentlemen  wear  of  an 
evening  at  dinner  parties  or  other  gatherings.  This 
is  it,"  and  he  showed  Jack  an  engraving. 

Jack  looked  at  it — he  had  never  seen  any  one  so 
attired. 

"  He  looks  very  affected,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  fault  of  the  artist,"  the  foreman 
answered.  "  Gentlemen  look  just  as  natural  in  these 
clothes  as  in  any  other.  They  are  quite  simple,  you 
see — all  black,  with  open  vest,  white  shirt,  white  tie 
and  gloves,  and  patent  leather  boots." 

A  quiet  smile  stole  over  Jack's  face.  Humor  was 
by  no  means  a  strong  point  in  his  character,  but  he 
was  not  altogether  deficient  in  it. 

"  I  had  better  have  them,"  he  said ;  "  it  would 
look  strange,  I  suppose,  not  to  be  dressed  so  when 
others  are  ? " 

"  It  would  be  a  little  marked  in  the  event  of  a 
dinner  or  evening  party,"  the  foreman  answered, 
and  so  Jack  gave  the  order. 

It  was  two  weeks  later  before  he  paid  his  first 
visit  to  Mr.  Merton ;  for  the  pretty  little  house 
which  the  latter  had  taken  a  mile  out  of  the  town 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  workmen  and  fur- 
nishers, Mr.  Merton  having  drawn  on  his  little 
capital  to  decorate  and  fit  up  the  house,  so  as  to  be 
a  pretty  home  for  his  daughter* 


AN&WtWB.  159 

It  was,  indeed,  a  larger  house  than,  from  the  mere 
fcalary  attached  to  his  post,  he  could  be  able  to  af- 
ford, but  he  reckoned  upon  considerably  increasing 
this  by  preparing  young  men  for  the  university,  and 
he  was  wise  enough  to  know  that  a  good  establish- 
ment and  a  liberal  table  go  very  far  in  establishing 
and  widening  a  connection,  and  in  rendering  people 
sensible  to  a  man's  merits,  either  in  business  or 
otherwise. 

As  Mr.  Merton,  M.  A.,  late  of  St.  John's,  Cam- 
bridge, and  third  wrangler  of  his  year,  he  had  al- 
ready been  received  with  great  cordiality  by  his 
colleagues,  and  at  their  houses  had  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  many  of  the  best,  if  not  the  wealthiest, 
men  in  Birmingham,  for  at  Birmingham  the  terms 
were  by  no  means  more  synonymous  than  they  are 
elsewhere. 

Jack  had  ordered  his  clothes  to  be  sent  to  a  small 
hotel  near  the  railway  station,  and  had  arranged 
with  the  landlord  that  his  portmanteau  should  be 
kept  there,  and  a  room  be  placed  at  his  service 
on  Saturday  afternoon  and  Monday  morning  once 
a  month  for  him  to  change  his  things.  He  had 
walked  with  Mr.  Merton  and  seen  the  house,  and 
had  determined  that  he  would  always  change  be- 
before  going  there  on  a  Saturday,  in  order  to  avoid 
comments  by  servants  and  others  who  might  be 
visiting  them. 

In  thus  acting  Jack  had  no  personal  thoughts  in 


1 60  *A  CftiG  DEA  Tti. 

the  matter  ;  much  as  he  always  shrank  from  being 
put  forward  as  being  in  any  way  different  from 
others,  he  had  otherwise  no  self-consciousness  what- 
ever. No  lad  in  the  pits  thought  less  of  his  per- 
sonal appearance  or  attire,  and  his  friend  Nelly  had 
many  times  taken  him  to  task  for  his  indifference  in 
this  respect.  Mr.  Merton  perceived  advantages  in 
Jack's  position  in  life  not  being  generally  known, 
and  Jack  at  once  fell  into  the  arrangement,  and 
carried  it  out,  as  described,  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 
But  even  he  could  not  help  seeing,  when  he  had 
attired  himself  for  his  first  visit  to  Mr.  Merton's 
house,  how  complete  had  been  the  change  in  his 
appearance. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  that  just  a  little  dif- 
ference in  the  make  of  a  coat  would  have  made  such 
an  alteration  in  one's  look  ? "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  feel  different  altogether;  but  that  is  nonsense, 
except  that  these  boots  are  so  much  lighter  than 
mine  that  it  seems  as  if  I  were  in  my  stockings. 
Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  soon  be  accustomed  to  it." 

Packing  a  black  coat  and  a  few  other  articles  in 
a  hand-bag,  and  locking  up  the  clothes  he  had  taken 
off  in  his  portmanteau,  Jack  started  for  Mr.  Mer- 
ton's. He  was  dressed  in  a  well-fitting  suit  of  dark 
tweed,  with  a  claret-colored  neckerchief  with  plain 
gold  scarf-ring.  Jack's  life  of  exercise  had  given 
him  the  free  use  of  his  limbs — he  walked  erect,  and 
his  head  was  well  set  back  on  his  shoulders ;  alto- 


A  NEW  LTFE.  l6t 

Aether,  with  his  crisp,  short,  waving  hair,  his  good- 
humored  but  resolute  face,  and  his  steadfast  look, 
he  was,  although  not  handsome,  yet  a  very  pleasant- 
looking  young  fellow. 

He  soon  forgot  the  fact  of  his  new  clothes,  except 
that  he  was  conscious  of  walking  with  a  lightness 
and  elasticity  strange  to  him,  and  in  half  an  hotlf 
rang  at  the  visitors'  bell  of  Mr.  Merton's  villa, 

"  A  visitor,  papa,"  said  Alice,  who  was  sitting  near 
the  window  of  the  drawing-room.  "  How  tiresome, 
just  as  we  were  expecting  Jack  Simpson.  It  is  a 
gentleman.  Why,  papa  ! "  and  she  clapped  her 
hands,  "  it  is  Jack  himself.  I  did  not  know  him 
at  first :  he  looks  like  a  gentleman." 

"  He  is  a  gentleman,"  Mr.  Merton  said ;  "  a  true 
gentleman  in  thought,  feeling,  and  speech,  and  will 
soon  adapt  himself  to  the  society  he  will  meet  here. 
Do  not  remark  upon  his  dress  unless  he  says  some- 
thing about  it  himself." 

"  Oh,  papa,  I  should  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  I 
am  not  so  thoughtless  as  that." 

The  door  was  opened  and  Jack  was  shown  in. 

"  How  are  you,  Jack  ?     I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  am  always  well,"  Jack  said. 
Then  turning  to  Miss  Merton  he  asked  her  hovr 
she  liked  Birmingham.  He  had  seen  her  often  since 
the  time  when  he  first  met  her  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  strike,  as  he  had  helped  them  in  their 
preparations  for  removing  from  Stokebridge,  and 
tl 


iCa  FACING  DEATff. 

had  entirely  got  over  the  embarrassment  which  fc.3 
had  felt  on  the  first  evening  spent  there. 

After  talking  for  a  few  minutes,  Jack  said  gravely 
to  Mr.  Merton :  "  I  hope  that  these  clothes  will  do, 
Mr.  Merton?" 

"Excellently  well,  Jack,"  he  answered,  smiling » 
M  they  have  made  just  the  difference  I  expected ; 
Ihy  daughter  hardly  knew  you  when  you  rang  at 
the  bell." 

"  I  hardly  knew  myself  when  I  saw  myself  in  a 
glass,"  Jack  said.  "  Now,  on  what  principle  do  you 
explain  the  fact  that  a  slight  alteration  in  the  cut 
ting  and  sewing  together  of  pieces  of  cloth  should 
make  such  a  difference  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  gave  the  philosophy 
of  the  question  a  moment's  thought,  Jack,"  said 
Mr.  Merton,  smiling.  "  I  can  only  explain  it  by 
the  remark  that  the  better  cut  clothes  set  off  the 
natural  curve  of  the  neck,  shoulders,  and  figure 
generally,  and  in  the  second  place,  being  associated 
in  our  minds  with  the  peculiar  garb  worn  by  gentle- 
men, they  give  what,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  I 
may  call  style.  A  high  black  hat  is  the  ugliest,  most 
shapeless,  and  most  unnatural  article  ever  invented, 
but  still  a  high  hat,  good  and  of  the  shape  in  vogue, 
certainly  has  a  more  gentlemanly  effect,  to  use  a 
word  I  hate,  than  any  other.  And  now,  my  boy, 
I  know  you  dined  early ;  so  did  we.  We  shall 
have  tea  at  seven,  so  v  have  three  hours  for  work, 


ANEW  LIFK.  163 

and  there  are  nearly  six  weeks'  arrears,  so  do  not  let 
us  waste  any  more  time." 

After  this  first  visit  Jack  went  out  regularly 
once  every  four  weeks.  He  fell  very  naturally  into 
the  ways  of  the  house,  and  although  his  manner  often 
amused  Alice  Merton  greatly,  and  caused  even 
her  father  to  smile,  he  was  never  awkward  or 
boorish. 

As  Alice  came  to  know  him  more  thoroughly,  and 
their  conversations  ceased  to  be  of  a  formal  character, 
she  surprised  and  sometimes  quite  puzzled  him. 
The  girl  was  full  of  fun  and  had  a  keen  sense  of 
humor,  and  her  playful  attacks  upon  his  earnest- 
ness, her  light  way  of  parrying  the  problems  which 
Jack,  ever  on  the  alert  for  information,  was  Con- 
stantly putting,  and  the  cheerful  tone  which  her 
talk  imparted  to  the  general  conversation  when  she 
was  present,  were  all  wholly  new  to  the  lad.  Often 
he  did  not  know  whether  she  was  in  earnest  or  not, 
and  was  sometimes  so  overwhelmed  by  her  light 
attacks  as  to  be  unable  to  answer. 

Mr.  Merton  looked  on,  amused  at  their  wordy 
conflicts  ;  he  knew  that  nothing  does  a  boy  so  much 
good  and  so  softens  his  manner  as  friendly  inter- 
course with  a  well-read  girl  of  about  his  own 
age,  and  undoubtedly  Alice  did  almost  as  much 
toward  preparing  Jack's  manner  for  his  future 
career  as  her  father  had  done  toward  preparing  his 
jnind. 


iSk'-  FACING  DEATH. 

A 

As  time  went  on  Jack  often  met  Mr.  Merlon's 
colleagues,  and  other  gentlemen  who  came  in 
in  the  evening.  He  was  always  introduced  as  "  my 
young  friend  Simpson,"  with  the  aside,  "  a  re- 
markably clever  young  fellow,"  and  most  of  those 
who  met  him  supposed  him  to  be  a  pupil  of  the 
professor's. 

Mr.  Merton  had,  within  a  few  months  of  his 
arrival  at  Birmingham,  five  or  six  young  men  to 
prepare  for  Cambridge.  None  of  them  resided  in 
the  house,  but  after  Jack  had  become  thoroughly 
accustomed  to  the  position,  Mr.  Merton  invited 
them,  as  well  as  a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  to 
the  house  on  one  of  Jack's  Saturday  evenings. 

Jack,  upon  hearing  that  a  number  of  friends 
were  coming  in  the  evening,  made  an  excuse  to  go 
into  the  town,  and  took  his  black  bag  with  him. 

Alice  had  already  wondered  over  the  matter. 

"  They  will  all  be  in  dress,  papa.  Jack  will  feel 
awkward  among  them." 

"  He  is  only  eighteen,  my  dear,  and  it  will  not 
matter  his  not  being  in  evening  dress.  Jack  will 
not  feel  awkward." 

Alice,  was,  however,  very  pleased  as  well  as 
surprised  when,  upon  coming  down  dressed  into  the 
drawing-room,  she  found  him  in  full  evening  dress 
chatting  quietly  with  her  father  and  two  newly  ar- 
rived guests.  Jack  would  not  have  been  awkward, 
but  he  would  certainly  have  been  uncomfortable  luui 


A  NEW  LTFE.  165 

he  no»  _  _en   dressed  as  were  the  others,  for  of  all 
things  he  hated  being  different  to  other  people. 

He  looked  at  Alice  in  a  pretty  pink  muslin  dress 
of    fashionable    make    with    a    surprise   as  great 
as  that  with  which  she  had  glanced  at   him,  for 
he  had  never  before  seen  a  lady  in  full  evening 
dress. 

Presently  he  said  to  her  quietly,  "  I  know  I  never 
say  the  right  thing,  Miss  Merton,  and  I  dare  say  it 
is  quite  wrong  for  me  to  express  any  personal 
opinions,  but  you  do  look " 

"  No,  Jack  ;  that  is  quite  the  wrong  thing  to  say. 
You  may  say,  Miss  Merton,  your  dress  is  a  most  be- 
coming one,  although  even  that  you  could  not  be 
allowed  to  say  except  to  some  one  with  whom  you 
are  very  intimate.  There  are  as  many  various 
shades  of  compliments  as  there  are  of  intimacy.  A 
brother  may  say  to  a  sister,  You  look  stunning  to- 
night— that  is  a  very  slang  word,  Jack — and  she 
will  like  it.  A  stranger  or  a  new  acquaintance 
may  not  say  a  word  which  would  show  that  he 
observes  a  lady  is  not  attired  in  a  black  walking 
dress.'* 

"  And  what  is  the  exact  degree  of  intimacy  in 
which  one  may  say  as  you  denoted  '  Miss  Merton, 
your  dress  is  a  most  becoming  one  ?  ' ' 

"  I  should  say,"  the  girl  said  gravely,  "  it  might 
be  used  by  a  cousin  or  by  an  old  gentleman,  a  friend 
cf  the  family." 


i66  PACING 

Then  with  a  laugh  she  went  off  to  receive  the 
guests,  now  beginning  to  arrive  in  earnest. 

After  this  Mr.  Merton  made  a  point  of  having  an 
"  at  home  "  every  fourth  Saturday,  and  these  soon 
became  known  as  among  the  most  pleasant  and 
sociable  gatherings  in  the  literary  and  scientific 
world  of  Birmingham. 

So  young  Jack  Simpson  led  a  dual  life,  spending 
twenty-six  days  of  each  month  as  a  pit  lad,  speak- 
ing a  dialect  nearly  as  broad  as  that  of  his  fellows, 
and  two  as  a  quiet  and  unobtrusive  young  student 
in  the  pleasant  home  of  Mr.  Merton. 

Before  a  year  had  passed  the  one  life  seemed  as 
natural  to  him  as  the  other.  Even  with  his  friends 
he  kept  them  separate,  seldom  speaking  of  Stoke- 
bridge  when  at  Birmingham,  save  to  answer  Mr. 
Merton's  questions  as  to  old  pupils ;  and  giving  ac- 
counts, which  to  Nelly  Hardy  appeared  ridiculously 
meager,  of  his  Birmingham  experience  to  his  friends 
at  home. 

This  was  not  from  any  desire  to  be  reticent,  but 
simply  because  the  details  appeared  to  him  to  be 
altogether  uninteresting  to  his  friends. 

"  You  need  not  trouble  to  tell  me  any  more,  Jack," 
Nelly  Hardy  said  indignantly.  "  I  know  it  all  by 
heart.  You  worked  three  hours  with  Mr.  Merton ; 
dinner  at  six  ;  some  people  came  at  eight,  no  one  in 
particular ;  they  talked,  and  there  was  some  playing 
on  the  piano;  they  went  away  at  twelve.  Next 


A  NEW  LIFE.  ,    iC; 

morning  after  breakfast  you  went  to  church,"  had 
dinner  at  two,  took  a  walk  afterward,  had  tea  at 
half-past  six,  supper  at  nine,  then  to  bed.  I  won't 
ask  you  any  more  questions,  Jack ;  if  anything  out 
of  the  way  takes  place  you  will  tell  me,  no  doubt," 


168  fA  C2XG  DEA  Tff. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   DOG   FIGHT. 

SATURDAY  afternoon  walks,  when  there  were  no 
special  games  on  hand,  became  an  institution 
among  what  may  be  called  Jack  Simpson's  set  at 
Stokebridge.  The  young  fellows  had  followed  his 
lead  with  all  seriousness,  and  a  stranger  passing 
would  have  been  astonished  at  the  talk,  so  grave 
and  serious  was  it.  In  colliery  villages,  as  at  school, 
the  lad  who  is  alike  the  head  of  the  school  and  the 
champion  at  all  games  is  looked  up  to  and  admired 
and  imitated,  and  his  power  for  good  or  for  evil  is 
almost  unlimited  among  his  fellows.  Thus  the 
.Saturday  afternoon  walks  became  supplements  to 
the  evening  classes,  and  questions  of  all  kinds  were 
propounded  to  Jack,  whose  attainments  they  re- 
garded as  prodigious. 

On  such  an  afternoon,  as  Jack  was  giving  his 
friends  a  brief  sketch  of  the  sun  and  its  satellites, 
and  of  the  wonders  of  the  telescope,  they  heard 
bursts  of  applause  by  many  voices,  and  a  low,  deep 
growling  of  dogs. 

"  It  is  a  dog  fight,"  one  of  the  lads  exclaimed. 


TffE  DOG  FIGtiT. 

11  It  is  a  brutal  sport,"  Jack  said.  "  Let  us  go  an- 
other way." 

One  of  the  young  fellows  had,  however,  climbed 
a  gate  to  see  what  was  going  on  beyond  the  hedge. 

"  Jack,"  he  exclaimed,  "  there  is  Bill  Haden 
fighting  his  old  bitch  Flora  against  Tom  Walker's 
Jess,  and  I  think  the  pup  is  a-killing  the  old  dorg." 

With  a  bound  Jack  Simpson  sprang  into  the  field, 
where  some  twenty  or  thirty  men  were  standing 
looking  at  a  dog  fight.  One  dog  had  got  the  other 
down  and  was  evidently  killing  it. 

"  Throw  up  ihe  sponge,  Bill,"  the  miners  shouted. 
"  The  old  dorg's  no  good  agin  the  purp." 

Jack  dashed  into  the  ring,  with  a  kick  he  sent  the 
young  dog  flying  across  the  ring,  and  picked  up 
Flora,  who,  game  to  the  last,  struggled  to  get  at  her 
foe. 

A  burst  of  indignation  and  anger  broke  from  the 
men. 

"Let  un  be."  "Put  her  down."  "Dang  thee, 
how  dare'st  meddle  here  ? "  "  I'll  knock  thee  head 
off,"  and  other  shouts  sounded  loudly  and  threaten- 
ingly. 

"  For  shame  I "  Jack  said  indignantly.  "  Be  ye 
men  I  For  shame,  Bill  Haden,  to  match  thy  old 
dog,  twelve  year  old,  wi'  a  young  un.  She's  been  a 
good  dorg,  and  hast  brought  thee  many  a  ten-pun 
note.  If  be'est  tired  of  her,  gi'  her  poison,  but  I 
woan't  stand  by  and  see  her  mangled." 


IfO  FACING  DEATH. 

"  How  dare  'ee  kick  my  dorg  ? "  a  miner  saiv 
coming  angrily  forward ;  "  how  dare  'ee  come  herd 
and  hinder  sport  ?  " 

"  Sport  1 "  Jack  said  indignantly,  "  there  be  no 
sport  in  it.  It  is  brutal  cruelty." 

"  The  match  be  got  to  be  fought  out,"  another 
said,  "  unless  Bill  Haden  throws  up  the  sponge  for 
his  dog." 

"  Come,"  Tom  Walker  said,  putting  his  hand  on 
Jack's  shoulder,  "  get  out  o'  this ;  if  it  warn't  for 
Bill  Haden  I'd  knock  thee  head  off.  We  be  coom 
to  see  spoort,  and  we  mean  to  see  it." 

"  Spoort  I "  Jack  said  passionately.  "  If  it's 
spoort  thee  want'st  I'll  give  it  thee.  Flora  shan't 
go  into  the  ring  agin,  but  oi  ull.  I'll  fight  the  best 
man  among  ye,  be  he  which  he  will." 

A  chorus  of  wonder  broke  from  the  colliers. 

"  Then  thou'st  got  to  fight  me,"  Tom  Walker 
said.  "  I  b'liev',"  he  went  on  looking  round, 
"there  bean't  no  man  here  ull  question  that. 
Thou'st  wanted  a  leathering  for  soom  time,  Jack 
Simpson,  wi'  thy  laming  and  thy  ways,  and  I'm  not 
sorry  to  be 'the  man  to  gi'  it  thee." 

"  No,  no,"  Bill  Haden  said,  and  the  men  round 
for  the  most  part  echoed  his  words.  "  'Tain't  fair 
for  thee  to  take  t'  lad  at  his  word.  He  be  roight. 
I  hadn't  ought  to  ha'  matched  Flora  no  more.  She 
ha'  been  a  good  bitch  in  her  time,  but  she  be  past 
it,  and  I'll  own  up  that  thy  pup  ha'  beaten  her,  and 


DOG  wear.  171 

pay  thee  the  two  pounds  I  lay  on  her,  if  'ee'H  let 
this  matter  be." 

"  Noa,"  Tom  Walker  said,  "  the  young  un  ha1 
challenged  the  best  man  here,  and  I  be  a-going  to 
lick  him  if  he  doan't  draw  back." 

"  I  shall  not  draw  back,"  Jack  said,  divesting 
himself  of  his  coat,  waistcoat,  and  shirt.  "  Flora 
got  licked  a'cause  she  was  too  old,  maybe  I'll  be 
licked  a'cause  I  be  too  young ;  but  she  made  a  good 
foight,  and  so'll  oi.  No,  dad,  I  won't  ha'  you  to 
back  me.  Harry  here  shall  do  that." 

The  ring  was  formed  again.  The  lads  stood  on 
one  side,  the  men  on  the  other.  It  was  understood 
now  that  there  was  to  be  a  fight,  and  no  one  had 
another  word  to  say. 

"  I'll  lay  a  fi'-pound  note  to  a  shilling  on  the  old 
un,"  a  miner  said. 

«« I'll  take  'ee,"  Bill  Haden  answered.  "  It  haint 
a  great  risk  to  run,  and  Jack  is  as  game  as 
Flora." 

Several  other  bets  were  made  at  similar  odds,  the 
lads,  although  they  deemed  the  conflict  hopeless, 
yet  supporting  their  champion. 

Tom  Walker  stood  but  little  taller  than  Jack,  who 
was  about  five  feet  six,  and  would  probably  grow 
two  inches  more  ;  but  he  was  three  stone  heavier, 
Jack  being  a  pound  or  two  only  over  ten,  while  the 
pitman  reached  thirteen.  The  latter  was  the  ac- 
knowledged champion  of  the  Vaughan  pits,  as  Jacl? 


172  FACING  DEATH. 

was  incontestably  the  leader  among  the  lads.  The 
disproportion  in  weight  and  muscle  was  enormous; 
but  Jack  had  not  a  spare  ounce  of  flesh  on  his 
bones,  while  the  pitman  was  fleshy  and  out  of  con- 
dition. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  give  the  details  of  the  fight, 
which  lasted  over  an  hour.  In  the  earlier  portion 
Jack  was  knocked  down  again  and  again,  and  was 
several  times  barely  able  to  come  up  to  the  call  of 
time ;  but  his  bull-dog  strain,  as  he  called  it,  gradu- 
ally told,  while  intemperate  habits  and  want  of  "con- 
dition did  so  as  surely  upon  his  opponent. 

The  derisive  shouts  with  which  the  men  had 
hailed  every  knock-down  blow  early  in  the  fight 
soon  subsided,  and  exclamations  of  admiration  at 
the  pluck  with  which  Jack,  reeling  and  confused, 
came  up  time  after  time  took  their  place. 

"  It  be  a  foight  arter  all,"  one  of  them  said  at  the 
end  of  the  first  ten  minutes.  "  I  wouldn't  lay  more 
nor  ten  to  one  now." 

"  I'll  take  as  many  tens  to  one  as  any  o'  ye  like 
to  lay,"  Bill  Haden  said,  but  no  one  cared  to  lay 
even  these  odds. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  the  betting  was  only 
two  to  one.  Jack,  who  had  always  "given  his 
head,"  that  is,  had  always  ducked  so  as  to  receive 
the  blows  on  the  top  of  his  head,  where  they  were 
supposed  to  do  less  harm,  was  as  strong  as  he  was 
after  the  first  five  minutes.  Tom  Walker  was  pant- 


THE  DOG  FIGHT.  173 

Ag  with  fatigue,  wild  and  furious  at  his  want  of 
success  over  an  adversary  he  had  despised. 

The  cheers  of  the  lads,  silent  at  first,  rose  louder 
with  each  round,  and  culminated  in  a  yell  of  triumph 
when,  at  the  end  of  fifty-five  minutes,  Tom  Walker, 
having  for  the  third  time  in  succession  been  knocked 
down,  was  absolutely  unable  to  rise  at  the  call  of 
"  time  "  to  renew  the  fight. 

Never  had  an  event  created  such  a  sensation  in 
Stokebridge.  At  first  the  news  was  received  with 
absolute  incredulity,  but  when  it  became  thoroughly 
understood  that  Bill  Haden's  boy,  Jack  Simpson, 
had  licked  Tom  Walker,  the  wonder  knew  no 
bounds.  So  struck  were  some  of  the  men  with 
Jack's  courage  and  endurance  that  the  offer  was 
made  to  him  that,  if  he  liked  to  go  to  Birmingham 
and  put  himself  under  that  noted  pugilist  the 
"  Chicken,"  his  expenses  would  be  paid,  and  ^50  be 
forthcoming  for  his  first  match.  Jack,  knowing 
that  this  offer  was  made  in  good  faith  and  with  good 
intentions,  and  was  in  accordance  with  the  custom 
of  mining  villages,  declined  it  courteously  and  thank- 
fully, but  firmly,  to  the  surprise  and  disappointment 
of  his  would-be  backers,  who  had  flattered  themselves 
that  Stokebridge  was  going  to  produce  a  champion 
middle-weight. 

He  had  not  come  unscathed  from  the  fight,  for  it 
proved  that  one  of  his  ribs  had  been  broken  by  a 
heavy  body  hit ;  and  he  was  for  some  weeks  in  the 


1 74  FACING  DEA  TH. 

hands  of  the  doctor,  and  was  longer  still  before  he 
could  again  take  his  place  in  the  pit. 

Bill  Haden's  pride  in  him  was  unbounded,  and 
during  his  illness  poor  old  Flora,  who  seemed  to 
recognize  in  him  her  champion,  lay  on  his  bed  with 
her  black  muzzle  in  the  hand  not  occupied  with  a 
book. 

The  victory  which  Jack  had  won  gave  the  finish- 
ing stroke  to  his  popularity  and  influence  among  his 
companions,  and  silenced  definitely  and  forever  the 
sneers  of  the  minority  who  had  held  out  against  the 
change  which  he  had  brought  about.  He  himself 
felt  no  elation  at  his  victory,  and  objected  to  the 
subject  even  being  alluded  to. 

"  It  was  just  a  question  of  wind  and  last,"  he  said. 
"  I  was  nigh  being  done  for  at  the  end  o'  the  first 
three  rounds.  I  just  managed  to  hold  on,  and  then 
it  was  a  certainty.  If  Tom  Walker  had  been  in 
condition  he  would  have  finished  me  in  ten  minutes. 
If  he  had  come  on  working  as  a  getter,  I  should  ha* 
been  nowhere ;  he's  a  weigher  now  and  makes  fat, 
and  his  muscles  are  flabby.  The  best  dorg  can't 
fight  when  he's  out  o'  condition." 

But  in  spite  of  that,  the  lads  knew  that  it  was 
only  bull-dog  courage  that  had  enabled  Jack  to  hold 
out  over  these  bad  ten  minutes. 

As  for  Jane  Haden,  her  reproaches  to  her  hus- 
band for  in  the  first  place  matching  Flora  against  a 
young  dog,  and  in  the  second  for  allowing  Jack  to 


A  NEW  LIFE.  175 

fight  so  noted  a  man  as  Tom  Walker,  were  so  fierce 
and  vehement  that  until  Jack  was  able  to  leave  his 
bed  and  take  his  place  by  the  fire,  Bill  was  but  littla 
at  home,  spending  all  his  time,  even  at  meals,  in 
that  place  of  refuge  from  his  wife's  tongue — "  Ths 
Chequers." 


l»6  FACING  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

STOKEBRIDGE    FEAST. 

EVEN  among  the  mining  villages  of  the  Black 
Country  Stokebridge  had  a  reputation  for  rough- 
ness ;  and  hardened  topers  of  the  place  would  boast 
that  in  no  village  in  the  county  was  there  so  much 
beer  drunk  per  head.  Stokebridge  feast  was  fre- 
quented by  the  dwellers  of  the  mining  villages  for 
miles  round,  and  the  place  was  for  the  day  a  scene  of 
disgraceful  drunkenness  and  riot.  Crowds  of  young 
men  and  women  came  in,  the  public  houses  were 
crowded,  there  was  a  shouting  of  songs  and  a  scrap- 
ing of  fiddles  from  each  taproom,  and  dancing  went 
on  in  temporary  booths. 

One  of  these  feasts  had  taken  place  just  after  the 
establishment  of  the  night  classes,  and  had  been 
marked  by  even  greater  drunkenness  and  more  riot- 
ous scenes  than  usual.  For  years  the  vicar  in  the 
church  and  the  dissenting  ministers  in  their  meet- 
ing-houses had  preached  in  vain  against  the  evil. 
Their  congregations  were  small,  and  in  this  respect 
their  words  fell  upon  ears  closed  to  exhortation. 
During  the  year  which  had  elapsed,  however,  there 
was  a  perceptible  change  in  Stokebridge,  a  change 


STOCKEBR1DGE  FEAST.  177 

from  which  those  interested  in  it  hoped  for  great 
results. 

The  Bull-dogs  and  their  kindred  societies  had  set 
the  fashion,  and  the  demeanor  and  bearing  of  the 
young  men  and  boys  was  quiet  and  orderly.  In 
every  match  which  they  had  played  at  rounders, 
football,  and  quoits,  with  the  surrounding  villages 
Stokebridge  had  won  easily,  and  never  were  the 
games  entered  into  with  more  zest  than  now. 

The  absence  of  bad  language  in  the  streets  was 
surprising.  The  habit  of  restraint  upon  the  tongue 
acquired  in  the  club-rooms  had  spread,  and  two 
months  after  Jack's  first  proposal  had  been  so  coldly 
received,  the  proposition  to  extend  the  fines  to 
swearing  outside  the  walls  as  well  as  in  was  unan- 
imously agreed  to.  The  change  in  the  demeanor  of 
the  girls  was  even  greater.  Besides  the  influence 
of  Mrs.  Dodgson  and  her  assistant,  aided  perhaps  by 
the  desire  to  stand  well  in  the  eyes  of  lads  of  the 
place,  their  boisterous  habits  had  been  toned  down, 
dark  neatly  made  dresses  took  the  place  of  bright- 
colored  and  flimsy  ones ;  hair,  faces,  and  hands 
showed  more  care  and  self-respect. 

The  example  of  the  young  people  had  not  been 
without  its  influence  upon  the  elders.  Not  indeed 
upon  the  regular  drinking  set,  but  upon  those  who 
only  occasionally  gave  way.  The  tidier  and  more 
comfortable  homes,  the  better-cooked  meals,  all  had 
their  effect ;  and  all  but  brutalized  men  shrank  from 


378  FACING  DEATH. 

becoming  objects  of  shame  to  their  children.  As  to 
the  women  of  Stokebridge  they  were  for' the  most 
part  delighted  with  the  change.  Some  indeed 
grumbled  at  the  new-fangled  ways,  and  complained 
that  their  daughters  were  getting  above  them,  but 
as  the  lesson  taught  in  the  night-classes  was  that  the 
first  duty  of  a  girl  or  woman  was  to  make  her  home 
bright  and  happy,  to  bear  patiently  the  tempers  of 
others,  to  be  a  peacemaker  and  a  help,  to  bear  with 
children,  and  to  respect  elders,  even  the  grumblers 
gave  way  at  last. 

The  very  appearance  of  the  village  was  changing. 
Pots  of  bright  flowers  stood  in  the  windows, 
creepers  and  roses  climbed  over  the  walls,  patches 
full  of  straggling  weeds  were  now  well-kept  gardens ; 
in  fact,  as  Mr.  Brook  said  one  day  to  the  vicar,  one 
would  hardly  know  the  place. 

"  There  has  indeed  been  a  strange  movement  for 
good,"  the  clergyman  said,  "  and  I  cannot  take  any 
share  of  it  to  myself.  It  has  been  going  on  for  some 
time  invisibly,  and  the  night-schools  and  classes  for 
girls  have  given  it  an  extraordinary  impulse.  It  is 
a  changed  place  altogether.  I  am  sorry  that  the 
feast  is  at  hand.  It  always  does  an  immense  deal 
of  mischief,  and  is  a  time  of  quarrel,  drunkenness, 
and  license.  I  wish  that  something  could  be  done 
to  counteract  its  influence." 

«  So  do  I,"  Mr.  Brook  said.  "  Can  you  advi*** 
anything  ?  " 


STOKEBRIDGE  FEA$S.  ^79 

"  I  cannot,"  the  vicar  said ;  "  but  I  will  put  on 
my  hat  and  walk  with  you  down  to  the  schoolhouse. 
To  Dodgson  and  his  wife  is  due  the  real  credit  of 
the  change;  they  are  indefatigable,  and  their  in- 
fluence is  very  great.  Let  us  put  the  question  to 
them." 

The  schoolmaster  had  his  evening  class  in  ;  Mrs. 
Dodgson  had  ten  girls  working  and  reading  in  her 
parlor,  as  she  invited  that  number  of  the  neatest 
and  most  quiet  of  her  pupils  to  tea  on  each  evening 
that  her  husband  was  engaged  with  his  night-school. 
These  evenings  were  greatly  enjoyed  by  the  girls, 
and  the  hope,  of  being  included  among  the  list  of  in- 
vited had  done  much  toward  producing  a  change  of 
manners. 

It  was  a  fine  evening,  and  the  schoolmaster  and 
his  wife  joined  Mr.  Brook  out  of  doors,  and  apolo- 
gizing for  the  room  being  full  asked  them  to  sit 
down  in  the  rose-covered  arbor  at  the  end  of  the 
garden.  The  vicar  explained  the  object  of  the 
visit. 

"  My  wife  and  I  have  been  talking  the  matter 
over,  Mr.  Brook,"  the  schoolmaster  said,  "  and  we 
deplore  these  feasts,  which  are  the  bane  of  the  place. 
They  demoralize  the  village :  all  sorts  of  good 
resolutions  give  way  under  temptation,  and  then 
those  who  have  given  way  are  ashamed  to  rejoin 
their  better  companions.  It  cannot  be  put  down,  I 
suppose  ?  " 


,8o  FACING  DEATH. 

«  No,"  Mr.  Brook  said.  " It  is  held  in  a  field  be- 
longing  to  '  The  Chequers,'  and  even  did  I  succeed 
in  getting  it  closed — which  of  course  would  be  out 
of  the  question — they  would  find  some  other  site 
for  the  booths." 

"  Would  you  be  prepared  to  go  to  some  expense  to 
neutralize  the  bad  effects  of  this  feast,  Mr.  Brook  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  any  expense  in  reason." 

"  What  I  was  thinking,  sir,  is  that  if  upon  the 
afternoon  of  the  feast  you  could  give  a  fete  in  your 
grounds,  beginning  with  say  a  cricket-match,  fol- 
lowed by  a  tea,  with  conjuring  or  some  such  amuse- 
ment afterward — for  I  do  not  think  that  they  would 
care  for  dancing — winding  up  with  sandwiches  and 
cakes,  and  would  invite  the  girls  of  my  wife's 
sewing-classes  with  any  other  girls  they  may  choose 
to  bring  with  them,  and  the  lads  of  my  evening 
class,  with  similar  permission  to  bring  friends,  we 
should  keep  all  those  who  are  really  the  moving 
spirits  of  the  improvement  which  has  taken  place 
here  out  of  reach  of  temptation." 

"  Your  idea  is  excellent,"  Mr.  Brook  said.  "  I  will 
get  the  band  of  the  regiment  at  Birmingham  over 
and  we  will  wind  up  with  a  display  of  fireworks, 
and  any  other  attraction  which,  after  thinking  the 
matter  over,  you  can  suggest,  shall  be  adopted.  I 
have  greatly  at  heart  the  interests  of  my  pitmen, 
and  the  fact  that  last  year  they  were  led  away  to 
play  me  a  scurvy  trick  is  all  forgotten  now.  A 


STOKEBR1DGE  FEAST,  181 

good  work  has  been  set  on  foot  here,  and  if  we  can 
foster  it  and  keep  it  going,  Stokebridge  will  in 
future  years  be  a  very  different  place  to  what  it  has 
been." 

Mr.  Dodgson  consulted  Jack  Simpson  the  next 
day  as  to  the  amusements  likely  to  be  most  popular : 
but  Jack  suggested  that  Fred  Wood  and  BiU 
Cummings  should  be  called  into  consultation,  for, 
as  he  said,  he  knew  nothing  of  girls'  ways,  and  his 
opinions  were  worth  nothing.  His  two  friends 
were  sent  for  and  soon  arrived.  They  agreed  that  a 
cricket-match  would  be  the  greatest  attraction,  and 
that  the  band  of  the  soldiers  would  delight  the  girls. 
It  was  arranged  that  a  challenge  should  be  sent  to 
Batterbury,  which  lay  thirteen  miles  off,  and  would 
therefore  know  nothing  of  the  feast.  The  Stoke- 
bridge team  had  visited  them  the  summer  before 
and  beaten  them,  therefore  they  would  no  doubt 
come  to  Stokebridge.  They  thought  that  a  good 
conjuror  would  be  an  immense  attraction,  as  such  a 
thing  had  never  been  seen  in  Stokebridge,  and  that 
the  fireworks  would  be  a  splendid  wind  up.  Mr. 
Brook  had  proposed  that  a  dinner  for  the  contend- 
ing cricket  teams  should  be  served  in  a  marquee,  but 
to  this  the  lads  objected,  as  not  only  would  the 
girls  be  left  out,  but  also  the  lads  not  engaged  in 
the  match.  It  would  be  better,  they  thought,  for 
there  to  be  a  table  with  sandwiches,  buns,  lemonade, 
and  tea,  from  which  all  could  help  themselves. 


l8»  PACING  DEATH. 

The  arrangements  were  all  made  privately,  as  it 
was  possible  that  the  publicans  might,  were  they 
aware  of  the  intended  counter  attraction,  change  the 
day  of  the  feast,  although  this  was  unlikely,  seeing 
that  it  had  from  time  immemorial  taken  place  on  the . 
3d  of  September  except  only  when  that  day  fell  on 
a  Sunday;  still  it  was  better  to  run  no  risk.  A 
meeting  of  the  "  Bull-dogs  "  was  called  for  the  2;th 
of  August,  and  at  this  Jack  announced  the  invitation 
which  had  been  received  from  Mr.  Brook.  A  few 
were  inclined  to  demur  at  giving  up  the  jollity  of 
the  feast,  but  by  this  time  the  majority  of  the  lads 
had  gone  heart  and  soul  into  the  movement  for  im 
provement.  The  progress  made  had  already  been 
so  great,  the  difficulties  at  first  met  had  been  so 
easily  overcome,  that  they  were  eager  to  carry  on 
the  work.  One  or  two  of  those  most  doubtful  as  to 
their  own  resolution  were  the  most  ready  to  accept 
the  invitation  of  their  employer,  for  it  was  morally 
certain  that  every  one  would  be  drunk  on  the  night 
of  the  feast,  and  it  was  an  inexorable  law  of  the 
"  Bull-dogs  "  that  any  of  the  members  getting  drunk 
were  expelled  from  that  body.  The  invitation  was, 
at  last  accepted  without  a  dissenting  voice,  the 
challenge  to  Batterbury  written,  and  then  the  mem- 
bers went  off  to  the  associated  clubs  of  which  they 
were  members  to  obtain  the  adhesion  of  these  also 
to  the  fete  at  Mr.  Brook's.  Mrs.  Dodgson  had 
harder  work  with  the  sewing-class.  The  Attraction 


FEAST.  183 

<jf  the  dancing  and  display  of  finery  at  the  feast  was 
greater  to  many  of  the  girls  than  to  the  boys.  Many 
eagerly  accepted  the  invitation ;  but  it  was  not 
until  Mr.  Dodgson  came  in  late  in  the  evening  and 
announced  in  an  audible  tone  to  his  wife  that  he 
was  glad  to  say  that  the  whole  of  the  young  fellows 
of  the  night-school  had  accepted  the  invitation,  that 
the  girls  all  gave  way  and  agreed  to  go  to  the  fete. 

Accordingly  on  the  3d  of  September,  just  as  the 
people  from  the  pit  villages  round  were  flocking  in 
to  Stokebridge,  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  young 
people  of  that  place,  with  a  score  or  two  of  young 
married  couples  and  steady  men  and  women,  set  out 
in  their  Sunday  suits  for  Mr.  Brook's. 

It  was  a  glorious  day.  The  cricket-match  was  a 
great  success,  the  military  band  was  delightful,  and 
Mr.  Brook  had  placed  it  on  the  lawn,  so  that  those 
of  the  young  people  who  chose  could  dance  to  the 
inspiring  strains.  Piles  of  sandwiches  disappeared 
during  the  afternoon,  and  the  tea,  coffee,  and  lemon- 
ade were  pronounced  excellent.  There  was,  too,  a 
plentiful  supply  of  beer  for  such  of  the  lads  as  pre- 
ferred it ;  as  Mr.  Brook  thought  that  it  would  look 
like  a  want  of  confidence  in  his  visitors  did  he  not 
provide  them  with  beer. 

Batterbury  was  beaten  soundly ;  and  when  it  was 
dark  the  party  assembled  in  a  large  marquee.  There 
a  conjuror  first  performed,  and  after  giving  all  the 
usual  wonders,  produced  from  an  inexhaustible  box 


184  FACING  DRA  T&. 

such  pretty  presents  in  the  way  of  well-furnished 
work-bags  and  other  useful  articles  for  the  girls  that 
these  were  delighted.  But  the  surprise  of  the  eve- 
ning was  yet  to  come.  It  was  not  nine  o'clock  when 
the  conjuror  finished,  and  Mr.  Dodgson  was  think- 
ing anxiously  that  the  party  would  be  back  in  Stoke- 
bridge  long  before  the  feast  was  over.  Suddenly  a 
great  pair  of  curtains  across  the  end  of  the  tent  drew 
aside  and  a  regular  stage  was  seen.  Mr.  Brook  had 
obtained  the  services  of  five  or  six  actors  and  ac- 
tresses from  the  Birmingham  theater,  together  with 
scenery  and  all  accessories ;  and  for  two  hours  and  a 
half  the*audience  was  kept  in  a  roar  of  laughter  by 
some  well-acted  farces. 

When  the  curtain  fell  at  last,  Mr.  Brook  himself 
came  in  front  of  it.  So  long  and  hearty  was  the 
cheering  that  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  could  ob- 
tain a  hearing.  At  last  silence  was  restored. 

'•*  I  am  very  glad,  my  friends,"  he  said,  "  that  you 
have  had  a  happy  afternoon  and  evening,  and  I  hope 
that  another  year  I  shall  see  you  all  here  again.  I 
should  like  to  say  a  few  words  before  we  separate. 
You  young  men,  lads  and  lasses,  will  in  a  few  years 
have  a  paramount  influence  in  Stokebridge ;  upon 
you  it  depends  whether  that  place  is  to  be,  as  it  used 
to  be,  like  other  colliery  villages  in  Staffordshire,  or 
to  be  a  place  inhabited  by  a  decent  and  civilized 
people.  I  am  delighted  to  observe  that  a  great 
change  has  lately  come  over  it,  due  in  a  great  meas- 


STOKEDRTDGE  FEAST.  ~"  '185 

lire  to  your  good  and  kind  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dodgson,  who  have  devoted  their  whole  time  and 
efforts  to  your  welfare."  The  cheering  at  this  point 
was  as  great  as  that  which  had  greeted  Mr.  Brook 
himself,  but  was  even  surpassed  by  that  which  burst 
out  when  a  young  fellow  shouted  out,  "  and  Jack 
Simpson."  During  this  Jack  Simpson  savagely 
made  his  way  out  of  the  tent,  and  remained  outside, 
muttering  threats  about  punching  heads,  till  the 
proceedings  were  over.  "And  Jack  Simpson,"  Mr. 
Brook  went  on,  smiling  after  the  cheering  had  sub- 
sided. "  I  feel  sure  that  the  improvement  will  be 
maintained.  When  you  see  the  comfort  of  homes  in 
which  the  wives  are  cleanly,  tidy,  and  intelligent, 
able  to  make  the  dresses  of  themselves  and  their 
children,  and  to  serve  their  husbands  with  decently 
cooked  food  ;  and  in  which  the  husbands  spend  their 
evenings  and  their  wages  at  home,  treating  their 
wives  as  rational  beings,  reading  aloud,  or  engaged 
in.  cheerful  conversation,  and  compare  their  homes 
with  those  of  the  drunkard  and  the  slattern,  it  would 
seem  impossible  for  any  reasonable  human  being  to 
hesitate  in  his  or  her  choice  between  them.  It  is  in 
your  power,  my  friends,  each  and  all,  which  of  these 
homes  shall  be  yours.  I  have  thought  that  some 
active  amusement  is  necessary,  and  have  arranged, 
after  consultation  with  your  vicar  and  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dodgson,  that  a  choir-master  from  Birmingham 
shall  come  over  twice  a  week,  to  train  such  of  you 


lS6  FACING  DEA  Tff.  , 

as  may  wish  and  may  have  voices,  in  choir-singing. 
As  the  lads  of  Stokebridge  can  beat  those  of  any  of 
the  surrounding  villages  at  cricket,  so  I  hope  in  time 
the  choir  of  the  lads  and  lasses  of  this  place  will  be 
able  to  hold  its  own  against  any  other."  Again  the 
speaker  had  to  pause,  for  the  cheering  was  enthusi- 
astic. "  And  now,  good  night ;  and  may  I  say  that 
I  hope  and  trust  that  when  the  fireworks,  which  will 
now  be  displayed,  are  over,  you  will  all  go  home 
and  straight  to  bed,  without  being  tempted  to 
join  in  the  doings  at  the  feast.  If  so,  it  will  be  a 
satisfaction  to  me  to  think  that  for  the  first  time 
since  the  feast  was  first  inaugurated,  neither  lad  nor 
lass  of  Stokebridge  will  have  cause  to  look  back 
upon  the  feast-day  with  regret  or  shame." 


THE  GREAT  R2G2.  s8? 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    GREAT    RIOT. 

STOKEBRIDGE  feast  had  not  gone  off  with  its  usual 
spirit.  The  number  of  young  pitmen  and  lads  from 
the  surrounding  villages  were  as  large  as  ever,  and 
there  was  no  lack  of  lasses  in  gay  bonnets  and 
bright  dresses.  The  fact,  however,  that  almost  the 
whole  of  the  lads  and  girls  of  Stokebridge  between 
the  ages  of  fifteen  and  eighteen  had  left  the  village 
and  gone  to  a  rival  fete  elsewhere,  cast  a  damper 
on  the  proceedings.  There  were  plenty  of  young 
women  and  young  men  in  Stokebridge  who  were  as 
ready  as  ever  to  dance  and  to  drink,  and  who  were, 
perhaps,  even  gaudier  in  attire  and  more  boisterous 
in  manner  than  usual,  as  a  protest  against  the  re- 
cession of  their  juniors;  for  Stokebridge  was 
divided  into  two  very  hostile  camps,  and,  as  was 
perhaps  not  unnatural,  those  over  the  age  of  the 
girls  and  lads  at  the  night-schools  resented  the 
changes  which  had  been  made,  and  rebelled  against 
the,  as  they  asserted,  airs  of  superiority  of  youngei 
sisters  and  brothers. 

ID  some  cases  no  doubt  there  was  ground  for  the 


l88  FACING  DEATH. 

feeling.  The  girls  and  lads,  eager  to  introduce  the 
new  lessons  of  order  and  neatness  which  they  had 
learned,  may  have  gone  too  fast  and  acted  with  too 
much  zeal,  although  their  teacher  had  specially 
warned  them  against  so  doing.  Hence  the  feeling 
of  hostility  to  the  movement  was  strong  among  a 
small  section  of  Stokebridge,  and  the  feeling  was 
heightened  by  the  secession  in  a  body  of  the 
young  people  from  the  feast. 

As  the  day  went  on  the  public-houses  were  as 
full  as  ever,  indeed  it  was  said  that  never  before  had 
so  much  liquor  been  consumed ;  the  fiddles  played 
and  the  dancing  and  boisterous  romping  went  on  as 
usual,  but  there  was  less  real  fun  and  enjoyment. 
As  evening  came  on  the  young  fellows  talked  to- 
gether in  angry  groups.  Whether  the  proposal 
emanated  from  some  of  the  Stokebridge  men  or 
from  the  visitors  from  other  villages  was  afterward 
a  matter  of  much  dispute,  but  it  gradually  became 
whispered  about  among  the  dancing  booths  and 
public-houses  that  there  was  an  intention  to  give 
the  party  from  Brook's  a  warm  reception  when  they 
arrived.  Volleys  of  mud  and  earth  were  prepared, 
and  some  of  the  overdressed  young  women  tossed 
their  heads,  and  said  that  a  spattering  with  mud 
would  do  the  stuck-up  girls  no  harm. 

The  older  pitmen,  who  would  have  certainly  op- 
posed  any  such  design  being  carried  out,  were 
kept  in  ignorance  of  what  was  intended;  the 


THE  GREAT  RIOT.  189 

greater  portion  were  indeed  drunk  long  before  the 
time  came  when  the  party  would  be  returning  from 
the  fete. 

At  a  quarter  before  twelve  Jane  Haden,  who  had 
been  sitting  quietly  at  home,  went  up  to  the 
"  Chequers  "  to  look  after  her  husband,  and  to  see 
about  his  being  brought  home  should  he  be  incapa- 
ble of  walking.  The  music  was  still  playing  in  the 
dancing  booths,  but  the  dancing  was  kept  up  with- 
out spirit,  for  a  number  of  young  men  and  lads 
were  gathered  outside.  As  she  passed  she  caught  a 
few  words  which  were  sufficient  to  inform  her  of 
what  was  going  on.  "Get  some  sticks  oot  o* 
hedges."  "  Fill  your  pockets  oop  wi'  stones." 
"We'll  larn  'em  to  spoil  the  feast." 

Jane  saw  that  an  attack  was  going  to  be  made 
upon  the  party,  and  hesitated  for  a  moment  what 
to  do.  The  rockets  were  going  up  in  Mr.  Brook's 
grounds,  and  she  knew  she  had  a  few  minutes  yet. 
First  she  ran  to  the  house  of  James  Shepherd.  The 
pitman,  who  was  a  sturdy  man,  had  been  asleep  for 
the  last  three  hours.  She  knocked  at  the  door,  un- 
locked it,  and  went  in. 

"  Jim,"  she  called  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  Aye,  what  be't  ?  "  said  a  sleepy  voice  up-stairs ; 
«be't  thou,  Harry  and  Sally?" 

"  No,  it  be  I,  Jane  Haden ;  get  up  quickly,  Jim ; 
quick,  man,  there  be  bad  doings,  and  thy  lad  and 
>ass  are  like  to  have  their  heads  broke  if  no  worse." 


9ACWG  DFAT'L 

Alarmed  by  &€  •arords  and  the  urgent  mannei  of 
his  neighbor,  Jim  and  his  wife  slipped  on  a  few 
clothes  and  came  down.  Jane  at  once  told  them 
what  she  had  heard. 

"There  be  between  two  and  three  hundred  o! 
'em,"  she  said,  "  as  far  as  I  could  see  the  wust  lot 
out  o'  Stokebridge,  and  a  lot  o'  roughs  from  t*  other 
villages.  Quick,  Jim,  do  you  and  Ann  go  round 
quick  to  the  houses  o'  all  the  old  hands  who  ha1 
kept  away  from  the  feast  or  who  went  home  drunk 
early,  they  may  ha'  slept  't  off  by  this,  and  get  'un 
together.  Let  'em  take  pick-helves,  and  if  there's 
only  twenty  of  ye  and  ye  fall  upon  this  crowd  ye'll 
drive  'em.  If  ye  doan't  it  will  go  bad  wi'  all  out 
lads  and  lasses.  I'll  go  an'  warn  'em,  and  tell  'em 
to  stop  a  few  minutes  on  t'  road  to  give  'ee  time  to 
coom  up.  My  Jack  and  the  lads  will  foight,  no  fear 
o'  that,  but  they  can't  make  head  agin  so  many 
armed  wi'  sticks  and  stones  too ;  but  if  ye  coom  up 
behind  and  fall  on  'em  when  it  begins  ye'll  do,  even 
though  they  be  stronger." 

Fully  awake  now  to  the  danger  which  threatened 
the  young  people,  for  the  pitman  and  his  wife  knew 
that  when  blows  were  exchanged  and  blood  heated 
things  would  go  much  further  than  was  at  first  in- 
tended, they  hurried  off  to  get  a  few  men  together, 
while  Jane  Haden  started  for  the  hall. 

Already  the  riotous  crowd  had  gone  on  and  she 
had  to  make  a  detour,  but  she  regained  the  road,  and 


GREA  T  KJOT.  191 

burst  oreatnless  and  panting  into  the  midst  of  the 
throng  of  young  people  coming  along  the  lane  chat- 
ting gayly  of  the  scenes  of  the  evening. 

"  Stop,  stop  1  "  she  cried ;  "  don't  go  a  foot  fur- 
ther— where  be  my  Jack  ?  " 

"It's  Mrs.  Haden,"  Nelly  Hardy  said.  "Jack, 
it's  your  mother." 

'*.  What  is  it  ?  "  Jack  said  in  astonishment  "  Any- 
thing wrong  wi'  dad  ?  " 

"  Stop  !  "  Mrs.  Haden  gasped  again ;  "  there's 
three  hundred  and  more  young  chaps  and  boys 
wi'  sticks  and  stones  joost  awaiting  on  this  side 
t*  village,  awaiting  to  pay  you  all  oot." 

Ejaculations  of  alarm  were  heard  all  round,  and 
several  of  the  girls  began  to  whimper. 

"  Hush  I  "  Mr.  Dodgson  said,  coming  forward. 
"  Let  all  keep  silence.  There  may  be  no  occasion 
for  alarm ;  let  us  hear  all  about  it,  Mrs.  Haden." 

Mrs.  Haden  repeated  her  story,  and  said  that 
Harry's  father  and  mother  were  getting  a  body  of 
pitmen  to  help  them. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Dodgson,"  said  Jack, "  the  girls  had 
best  go  back  to  Mr.  Brook's  as  quickly  as  possible ; 
we  will  come  and  fetch  them  when  it's  all  over." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Mr.  Dodgson,  "  they  might 
be  injured  by  stones.  My  dear,  do  you  lead  the 
girls  back  to  Mr.  Brook's.  The  house  will  hardly 
be  shut  up  yet,  and  even  if  it  is,  Mr.  Brook  will 
gladly  receive  you.  There  is  no  chance  of  any  of 


192  FACTNG  &EAT&. 

the  ruffians  pursuing  them,  do  you  think,  Jack, 
when  they  find  they  have  only  us  to  deal  with  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  If  three  or  four  of  us  wera 
to  put  on  their  cloaks,  something  light  to  show  in 
the  dark,  they  will  think  the  girls  are  among  us." 

"  Quick  1  here  they  come,"  Mr.  Dodgson  said,  "  go 
back  silently,  girls — not  a  word." 

Two  or  three  cloaks  and  shawls  were  hastily  bor- 
rowed and  the  lads  then  turned  up  the  road,  where 
the  sound  of  suppressed  laughter  and  coarse  oaths 
could  be  heard,  while  the  young  women  went  off  at 
a  rapid  pace  toward  the  hall. 

"  There  are  four  of  the  clubs,  nigh  twenty  in 
each,"  Jack  said ;  "  let  each  club  keep  together  and 
go  right  at  'em.  Stick  together  whatever  you 
do." 

"  I'll  take  my  place  by  you,  Jack,"  Mr.  Dodgson 
said;  "  you  are  our  captain  now." 

Talking  in  a  careless  voice  the  party  went  for- 
ward. The  road  here  was  only  divided  from  the 
fields  on  either  side  by  a  newly  planted  hedge  of  a 
foot  or  so  in  height.  Jack  had  arranged  that  he, 
with  the  few  married  pitmen,  Mr.  Dodgson,  and 
the  eight  Bull-dogs  who  did  not  belong  to  the  other 
associations,  should  hold  the  road  ;  that  two  of  the 
other  clubs  should  go  on  each  side,  fight  their  way 
as  far  as  they  could,  and  then  close  in  on  the  road 
to  take  the  assailants  there  on  both  flanks. 

The  spirit  of  association  did  wonders  ;  many  of 


THE  GItEAT  RIOT.  "193 

the  lads  were  but  fourteen  or  fifteen,  yet  all  gath- 
ered under  their  respective  leaders  and  prepared  for 
what  they  felt  would  be  a  desperate  struggle. 
Presently  they  saw  a  dark  mass  gathered  in  the 
road. 

As  soon  as  the  light  shawls  were  seen  there  was 
a  cry  of  "  Here  they  be,  give  it  'em  well,  lads  ;  " 
and  a  volley  of  what  were,  in  the  majority  of  cases, 
clods  of  earth,  but  among  which  were  many  stones, 
was  poured  in.  Without  an  instant's  pause  the 
party  attacked  separated,  two  bands  leaped  into  the 
field  on  either  side,  and  then  the  whole  rushed  at 
the  assailants.  No  such  charge  as  this  had  been 
anticipated.  The  cowardly  ruffians  had  expected 
to  give  a  complete  surprise,  to  hear  the  shrieks  of 
the  girls,  and  perhaps  some  slight  resistance  from  a 
few  oi  the  older  lads ;  the  suddenness  of  this  attack 
astonished  them. 

In  an  instant  Jack  and  his  supporters  were  in 
their  midst,  and  the  fury  which  animated  them  at 
this  cowardly  attack,  and  the  unity  of  their  action, 
bore  all  before  them  ;  and  in  spite  of  their  sticks 
the  leaders  of  the  assailants  were  beaten  to  the 
ground.  Then  the  sheer  weight  of  the  mass  be- 
hind stopped  the  advance  and  the  conflict  became  a 
general  one.  In  the  crowd  and  confusion  it  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe,  and  this 
prevented  the  assailants  from  making  full  use  of 
their  stakes,  rails,  and  other  implements  with  which 


I$A  FACftfG  DEATff. 

they  were  armed.  They  were,  however,  getting  the 
best  of  it.  Mr.  Dodgson  had  been  knocked  down 
•VfitL  A  neavy  stake  and  several  others  were  badly 
hurt,  when  the  strong  bands  in  the  field,  who  had 
driven  back  the  scattered  assailants  there,  fell  upon 
the  flanks  of  the  main  body  who  were  fighting  in 
the  road. 

For  five  minutes  the  fight  was  a  desperate  one, 
and  then,  just  as  numbers  and  weapons  were  tell- 
ing, there  was  a  shout  in  the  rear,  and  fifteen  pit- 
men, headed  by  Jim  Shepherd  and  armed  with  pick 
handles,  as  formidable  weapons  as  could  be  desired 
in  the  hands  of  strong  men,  fell  upon  the  rear  of 
the  assailants.  Yells,  shouts,  and  heavy  crashing 
blows  told  the  tale  to  those  engaged  in  front ;  and 
at  once  the  assailants  broke  and  scattered  in  flight. 

"  Catch  'em  and  bring  'em  down,"  Jack  shouted ; 
"  they  shall  pay  for  this  night's  work." 

Such  of  the  lads  as  were  not  disabled  started  off, 
and  being  fleet  of  foot,  those  of  the  assailants 
nearest  to  them  had  little  chance  of  escape.  Two 
or  three  lads  together  sprang  upon  one  and  pulled 
him  down,  and  so  when  the  pursuit  ended  twenty- 
nine  of  the  assailants  had  fallen  into  their  hands. 
In  addition  to  this  a  score  of  them  lay  or  sat  by  the 
road  with  broken  heads  and  bones,  the  work  of  the 
pitmen's  weapons. 

Of  the  lads  the  greater  part  had  been  badly 
knocked  about,  and  some  lay  insensible  in  the  road 


THE  GREAT  RIOT.  19$ 

The  prisoners  were  brought  together,  five  of  tha 
pitmen  with  twenty  of  the  lads  marched  with  those 
able  to  walk  to  the  village,  where  they  shut  them 
up  in  the  schoolroom.  The  other  pitmen  remained 
in  charge  of  the  wounded  of  both  sides,  and  the  rest 
of  the  party  were  sent  back  to  Mr.  Brook's  to  fetch 
the  women  and  girls.  Near  the  house  they  met 
Mr.  Brook,  accompanied  by  his,  two  men-servants 
and  gardener,  armed  with  spades,  hurrying  forward ; 
and  he  expressed  his  delight  at  the  issue  of  the 
conflict,  but  shook  his  head  at  the  number  of 
serious  injuries  on  both  sides. 

In  a  shed  near  the  house  were  a  number  of 
hurdles,  and  twenty  of  these  were  at  once  sent  for- 
ward with  the  men  to  carry  those  unable  to  walk 
into  the  village. 

Mrs.  Dodgson  turned  pale  as  her  husband,  his 
face  covered  with  blood,  entered  the  dining-room, 
where,  huddled  together,  the  frightened  girls  were 
standing;  Mrs.  Dodgson,  aided  by  Nelly  Hardy, 
having  done  her  utmost  to  allay  their  fears. 

"  I  am  not  hurt,"  Mr.  Dodgson  said  heartily,  "  at 
least  not  seriously ;  but  I  fear  that  some  are.  It  is 
all  over  now,  and  those  ruffians  have  fled.  Jack 
Simpson  and  a  party  are  outside  to  escort  you  home. 
We  don't  know  who  are  hurt  yet,  but  they  will  be 
carried  to  the  girls'  schoolroom  and  attended  there. 
Harry  Shepherd  has  gone  on  to  get  the  doctor  up, 
and  Mr.  Brook  is  sending  off  a  man  on  horseback  to 


196  FACING  DEATH. 

Birmingham  for  some  more  medical  aid  and  a  body 
of  police  to  take  charge  of  the  fellows  we  have  cap- 
tured ;  they  will  be  in  by  the  early  train." 

Everything  was  quiet  in  Stokebridge  when  the 
party  with  the  prisoners  arrived.  The  pitmen,  be- 
fore starting,  had  gone  into  the  public-house  to  get 
nny  sober  enough  to  walk  to  join  them ;  and  the 
few  who  had  kept  up  the  dancing,  alarmed  at  the 
serious  nature  of  the  affair,  of  which  they  had  tacitly 
approved,  scattered  to  their  homes. 

The  news  of  the  conflict,  however,  quickly  circu- 
lated, lights  appeared  in  windows,  and  the  women 
who  had  sons  or  daughters  at  the  fete  flocked  out 
into  the  streets  to  hear  the  news.  Many  other  pit- 
men, whom  there  had  not  been  time  enough  to 
summon,  soon  joined  them,  and  deep  indeed  was 
the  wrath  with  which  the  news  of  the  assault  was  re- 
ceived. Most  of  the  men  at  once  hurried  away  to 
the  scene  of  conflict  to  see  who  were  hurt,  and  to 
assist  to  carry  them  in ;  and  the  sole  ground  for 
satisfaction  was  that  the  women  and  girls  had  all 
escaped  injury. 


AKM  Of  THE 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  ARM  OF  THE  LAW. 

THAT  was  a  sad  night  at  Stokebridge.  Seren  of 
the  lads  were  terribly  injured,  and  in  two  cases  the 
doctors  gave  no  hope  of  recovery.  Thirteen  of  the 
other  party  were  also  grievously  hurt  by  the  blows 
of  the  pitmen's  helves,  some  had  limbs  broken,  and 
three  lay  unconscious  all  night.  Most  of  the  boys 
had  scalp  wounds,  inflicted  by  stones  or  sticks, 
which  required  dressing.  Worst  of  all  was  the 
news  that  among  the  twenty-five  uninjured  prisoners 
were  ei^ht  who  belonged  to  Stokebridge,  besides 
five  among  the  wounded. 

Very  few  in  the  village  closed  an  eye  that  night. 
Mothers  went  down  and  implored  the  pitmen  on 
guard  to  release  their  sons,  but  the  pitmen  were 
firm ;  moreover  Mr.  Brook  as  a  magistrate  had 
placed  the  two  constables  of  the  place  at  the  door, 
with  the  strictest  order  to  allow  none  of  the  pris- 
oners to  escape.  The  six  o'clock  train  brought 
twenty  policemen  from  Birmingham,  and  these  at 
once  took  charge  of  the  schoolhouse  and  relieved 
the  pitmen  of  their  charge.  The  working  of  the 


1 98  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

mine  was  suspended  for  the  day,  and  large  numbers 
of  visitors  poured  into  the  place.  So  desperate  a 
riot  had  never  occurred  in  that  neighborhood  before, 
for  even  the  attack  upon  the  machinery  of  the  mine 
was  considered  a  less  serious  affair  than  this. 

Not  only  did  curiosity  to  learn  the  facts  of  the 
case  attract  a  crowd  of  visitors,  but  there  were 
many  people  who  came  from  the  pit  villages  near 
to  inquire  after  missing  husbands  and  sons,  and 
loud  were  the  wailings  of  women  when  it  was  found 
that  these  were  either  prisoners  or  were  lying  in- 
jured  in  the  temporary  hospital. 

Strangers  entering  the  village  would  have  sup- 
posed that  a  great  explosion  had  taken  place  in 
some  neighboring  pit.  Blinds  were  down,  women 
stood  at  the  doors  with  their  aprons  to  their  eyes, 
children  went  about  in  an  awed  and  silent  way,  as 
if  afraid  of  the  sound  of  their  own  voice,  many  of 
the  young  men  and  lads  had  their  heads  enveloped 
in  surgical  bandages,  and  a  strange  and  unnatural 
calm  pervaded  the  village.  The  "  Chequers  "  and 
other  public  houses,  however,  did  a  tearing  trade, 
for  the  sight-seer  in  the  black  country  is  the  thirsti- 
est of  men. 

It  was  soon  known  that  the  magistrates  would  sit 
at  Mr.  Brook's  at  one  o'clock,  and  a  policeman 
went  round  the  village  with  a  list  of  names  given 
him  by  Mr.  Dodgson,  to  summon  witnesses  to  attend. 
Jack  Simpson  had  strongly  urged  that  his  name 


THE  ARM  OF  THE  LAW.  199 

might  not  be  included  ;  in  the  first  place,  because 
above  all  things  he  hated  being  put  forward ;  and 
in  the  second,  as  he  pointed  out  to  the  school- 
master, it  might  excite  a  feeling  against  him,  and 
hinder  his  power  for  good,  if  he,  the  leader  of  the 
young  men,  was  to  appear  as  a  witness  against  the 
elders,  especially  as  among  the  prisoners  was  Tom 
Walker,  with  whom  he  had  fought.  As  Jack  could 
give  no  more  testimony  than  his  companions,  and 
as  generally  it  was  considered  an  important  and  re- 
sponsible privilege  to  appear  as  witness,  Mr.  Dodg- 
son  omitted  Jack's  name  from  the  list. 

There  was  some  groaning  in  the  crowd  when  the 
uninjured  prisoners  were  marched  out  under  escort 
of  the  police,  for  the  attack  upon  young  women  was 
so  contrary  to  all  the  traditions  of  the  country  that 
the  liveliest  indignation  prevailed  against  all  con- 
cerned in  it.  The  marquee  used  the  night  before 
for  the  theatricals  had  been  hastily  converted  into  a 
justice  room.  At  a  table  sat  Mr.  Brook  with  four 
other  magistrates,  with  a  clerk  to  take  notes  ;  the 
prisoners  were  ranged  in  a  space  railed  off  for  the 
purpose,  and  the  general  public  filled  the  rest  of  the 
space. 

Jane  Haden  was  the  first  witness  called.  She 
gave  her  evidence  clearly,  but  with  an  evident  wish 
to  screen  some  of  the  accused,  and  was  once  or  twice 
sharply  reproved  by  the  bench.  She  could  not 
say  who  were  among  the  men  she  saw  gathered,  nor 


200  FACING  DEATH. 

recognize  any  of  those  who  had  used  the  threatening 
expressions  which  had  so  alarmed  her  that  she  went 
round  to  arouse  the  elder  men,  and  then  ran  off  to 
warn  the  returning  party. 

"  Mrs.  Haden,"  Sir  John  Butler,  who  was  the 
chairman  of  the  magistrates,  said,  "  very  great  praise 
is  due  to  you  for  your  quickness  and  decision  ;  had 
it  not  been  for  this  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
riot  would  have  led  to  results  even  more  disastrous 
than  those  which  have  taken  place.  At  the  same 
time  it  is  the  feeling  of  the  court  that^you  are  now 
trying  to  screen  the  accused,  for  it  can  hardly  be 
that  passing  so  close  you  could  fail  to  recognize 
some  of  those  whom  you  heard  speak." 

Mr.  Dodgson  then  gave  his  evidence,  as  did  sev- 
eral of  the  lads,  who  proved  the  share  that  the  ac- 
cused had  taken  in  the  fray,  and  that  they  were 
captured  on  the  spot ;  while  two  of  the  pitmen 
proved  that  when  they  arrived  upon  the  spot  a  des- 
perate riot  was  going  on,  and  that  they  joined  in  the 
fray  to  assist  the  party  attacked. 

The  examination  lasted  for  four  hours,  at  the  end 
of  which  the  whole  of  the  prisoners  were  remanded 
to  prison,  the  case  being  adjourned  for  two  days. 

Before  these  were  passed,  both  the  lads  whose 
cases  had  been  thought  hopeless  from  the  first  died, 
and  the  matter  assumed  even  a  more  serious  ap- 
pearance. Before  the  next  hearing  several  of  the 
prisoners  offered  to  turn  king's  evidence,  and  stated 


t&R  ARM  Of  THE  LA&.  201 

that  they  had  been  incited  by  the  young  women  at 
the  feast. 

Great  excitement  was  caused  in  the  village  when 
ten  or  twelve  young  women  were  served  with  war- 
rants to  appear  on  the  following  day.  They  were 
placed  in  the  dock  with  the  other  prisoners,  but  no 
direct  evidence  was  taken  against  them.  The  num- 
bers of  the  accused  were  further  swelled  by  two  men 
belonging  to  other  villages,  who  had  been  arrested 
on  the  sworn  evidence  of  some  of  the  lads  that  they 
had  been  active  in  the  fray. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  case  the  whole  of  the 
male  prisoners  were  committed  for  trial  on  the 
charges  of  manslaughter  and  riot.  After  these  had 
been  removed  in  custody,  Sir  John  Butler  addressed 
a  severe  admonition  to  the  women. 

It  had,  he  said,  been  decided  not  to  press  the 
charge  against  them  of  inciting  to  riot,  but  that  they 
had  used  expressions  calculated  to  stir  the  men  up 
to  their  foul  and  dastardly  attack  upon  a  number  of 
young  women  and  girls  there  could  be  no  doubt. 
The  magistrates,  however,  had  decided  to  discharge 
them,  and  hoped  that  the  inward  reproach  which 
they  could  not  but  feel  at  having  a  hand  in  this  dis- 
graceful and  fatal  outrage  would  be  a  lesson  to  them 
through  life. 

Trembling  and  abashed,  the  women  made  their 
way  home,  many  of  the  crowd  hissing  them  as  they 
passed  along. 


aoa  FACING  DEATH* 

When,  six  weeks  later,  the  assizes  were  held,  four 
of  the  prisoners,  including  Tom  Walker,  who  was 
proved  to  be  the  leader,  were  sentenced  to  seven 
years'  penal  servitude.  Ten  men  had  terms  of  im- 
prisonment varying  from  two  to  five  years,  and  the 
rest  were  let  off  with  sentences  of  from  six  to  eight- 
een months. 

Very  long  did  the  remembrance  of  "  The  Black 
Feast,"  as  it  came  to  be  called,  linger  in  the  mem- 
ories of  the  people  of  Stokebridge  and  the  sur- 
rounding district.  Great  as  was  the  grief  and 
suffering  caused  alike  to  the  friends  of  those  injured 
and  of  those  upon  whom  fell  punishment  and  dis- 
grace, the  ultimate  effect  of  the  riot  was,  however, 
most  beneficial  to  Stokebridge.  Many  of  the  young 
men  who  had  most  strongly  opposed  and  derided 
the  efforts  of  their  juniors  to  improve  themselves 
were  now  removed,  for  in  addition  to  those  captured 
and  sentenced,  several  of  those  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  riot  hastily  left  the  place  upon  the  following 
day,  fearing  arrest  and  punishment  for  their  share 
in  the  night's  proceedings.  Few  of  them  returned 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  trial,  nor  did  the  prison- 
ers after  the  termination  of  their  sentences,  for  the 
feeling  against  them  in  the  district  was  so  strong 
that  they  preferred  obtaining  work  in  distant  parts 
of  the  country. 

A  similar  effect  was  produced  upon  the  young 
The  narrow  escape  which  they  had  had  of 


THE  ARM  OF  THE  LA  W.  203 

being  sent  to  prison,  the  disgrace  of  being  arrested 
and  publicly  censured,  the  averted  looks  of  their 
neighbors,  and  the  removal  from  the  place  of  the 
young  men  with  whom  they  had  been  used  to  as- 
sociate, combined  to  produce  a  great  effect  upon 
them. 

Some  profited  by  the  lesson  and  adapted  them- 
selves to  the  altered  ways  of  the  place  ;  others, 
after  trying  to  brave  it  out,  left  Stokebridge  and  ob- 
tained employment  in  the  factories  of  Birmingham  ; 
while  others  again,  previously  engaged  to  some  of 
the  young  men  who  had  left  the  village,  were  sooner 
or  later  married  to  them,  and  were  heard  of  no  more 
in  Stokebridge. 

This  removal  by  one  means  or  another  of  some 
forty  or  fifty  of  the  young  men  and  women  of  the 
place  most  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  improvement 
produced  an  excellent  effect.  Other  miners  came, 
of  course,  to  the  village  to  take  the  places  of  those 
who  had  left,  but  as  Mr.  Brook  instructed  his  man- 
ager to  fill  up  the  vacant  stalls  as  far  as  possible 
with  middle-aged  men  with  families,  and  not  with 
young  men,  the  newcomers  were  not  an  element  of 
disturbance. 

The  price  of  coal  was  at  this  time  high,  and  Mr. 
Brook  informed  the  clergyman  that,  as  he  was  draw- 
ing a  larger  income  than  usual  from  the  mines,  he 
was  willing  to  give  a  sum  for  any  purpose  which  he 
{night  recommend  as  generally  useful  to  the  families 


204  FACING  DEATH. 

of  his  work-people.  The  vicar  as  usual  consuked 
his  valued  assistants,  the  Dodgsons,  and  after  much 
deliberation  it  was  agreed  that  if  a  building  were  to 
be  erected,  the  lower  story  of  which  should  be  fitted 
up  as  a  laundry  and  wash-house,  upon  the  plan 
which  was  then  being  introduced  in  some  large 
towns,  it  would  be  an  immense  boon  to  the  place. 
The  upper  story  was  to  be  furnished  as  a  reading- 
room  with  a  few  papers  and  a  small  library  of  use- 
ful and  entertaining  books  for  reading  upon  the  spot 
or  lending.  Plans  were  obtained  and  estimates 
given,  and  Mr.  Brook  expressed  his  willingness  to 
contribi-jte  the  sum  of  eighteen  hundred  pounds,  for 
which  A  contractor  offered  to  complete  the  work. 


XNOtTY  QV&ST/OM 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A  KNOTTY    QUESTION. 

IT  has  not  been  mentioned  that  at  the  f£te  at 
Mr.  Brook's  on  the  memorable  occasion  of  the 
Black  Feast,  Mr.  Merton  and  his  daughter  were 
staying  as  guests  with  Mr.  Brook.  Mr.  Merton 
was  much  struck  with  the  extraordinary  improve- 
ment which  had  taken  place  in  the  bearing  and  ap- 
pearance of  the  young  people. 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Dodgson,  whom  he  congratulated 
upon  the  change,  said  ;  "  it  is  entirely  due  to  the 
suggestion  which  you  made  upon  my  arrival  here. 
The  night-schools  for  lads  and  the  sewing  and  cook- 
ing classes  for  the  girls  have  done  wonders,  and  I 
have  found  in  the  lad  you  recommended  to  my  at- 
tention, Jack  Simpson,  an  invaluable  ally.  With- 
out him,  indeed,  I  think  that  our  plan  would  have 
been  a  failure.  He  is  a  singular  young  fellow,  so 
quiet  yet  so  determined  ;  the  influence  he  has  over 
the  lads  of  his  own  age  is  immense." 

"  He  is  more  than  singular,"  Mr.  Merton  said 
warmly  ;  "  he  is  extraordinary.  You  only  see  one 
side  of  his  character ;  I  see  both.  As  a  scholar  he 
is  altogether  remarkable.  He  could  carry  off  any 


fo6  FACING  DEATH. 

open  scholarship  at  Cambridge,  and  could  take 
away  the  highest  honors  ;  he  could  pass  high  up 
among  the  wranglers  even  nov ,  and  has  a  broad 
and  solid  knowledge  of  other  subjects." 

"  Indeed  I "  Mr.  Dodgson  said,  surprised  ;  "  this 
is  quite  new  to  me.  I  know  that  he  studies  hard 
privately,  and  that  he  went  over  to  see  you  once  a 
month,  but  I  had  no  idea  that  his  acquirements  were 
anything  exceptional  ;  and,  indeed,  although  his 
speech  is  often  superior  to  that  of  the  other  young 
fellows,  he  often  makes  mistakes  in  grammar  and 
pronunciation." 

Mr.  Merton  laughed.  "  That  is  one  of  his  pecu- 
iarities  ;  he  does  not  wish  to  be  thought  above  his 
fellows  :  look  at  his  dress,  now !  But  if  you  saw 
him  with  me,  and  heard  him  talking  with  the  first 
men  of  education  and  science  in  Birmingham  you 
would  share  the  astonishment  they  often  express  to 
me,  and  would  take  him  not  only  for  a  young  gen- 
tleman, but  for  one  of  singular  and  exceptionally 
cultured  mind." 

Jack's  attire,  indeed — it  was  after  the  conclusion 
of  the  cricket-match,  and  he  had  changed  his  clothes 
— was  that  of  the  ordinary  pitman  in  his  Sunday 
suit.  A  black  cutaway  coat,  badly  fitting,  and  made 
by  the  village  tailor,  a  black  waistcoat  and  trousers, 
with  thick  high-low  shoes.  His  appearance  had  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  Miss  Merton,  who,  ar>  he 
approached  her.  held  out  her  hand. 


A  KNOTTY  QUESTION.  807 

"  How  are  you,  Jack  ?  What  on  earth  have  you 
been  doing  to  yourself  ?  You  look  a  complete  guy 
in  these  clothes.  I  was  half  tempted  to  cut  you 
downright." 

Jack  laughed. 

"  This  is  my  Sunday  suit,  Miss  Merton,  it  is  just 
the  same  as  other  people's." 

"  Perhaps  it  is,"  the  girl  said,  laughing,  and  look- 
ing round  with  just  a  little  curl  of  her  lip  ;  "  but  you 
know  better,  Jack  ;  why  should  you  make  such  a 
figure  of  yourself  ? " 

"  I  dress  here  like  what  I  am,"  Jack  said  simply, 
"  a  pitman.  At  your  house  I  dress  as  one  of  your 
father's  guests." 

"  I  suppose  you  please  yourself,  and  that  you 
always  do,  Mr.  Jack  Simpson  ;  you  are  the  most 
obstinate,  incorrigible " 

"  Ruffian,"  Jack  put  in,  laughing. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  ruffian,"  the  girl  said, 
laughing  too  ;  "  but,  Jack,  who  is  that  girl  watching 
us,  the  quiet-looking  girl  in  a  dark-brown  dress  and 
straw  bonnet  ?  " 

"  That  :s  my  friend  Nelly  Hardy,"  Jack  said 
seriously. 

"  Yes,  you  have  often  spoken  to  me  about  her 
and  I  have  wanted  to  see  her  ;  what  a  nice  face 
she  has,  and  handsome  too,  with  her  great  dark 
eyes  1  Jack,  you  must  introduce  me  to  her,  I  should 
like  to  know  her." 


2  oS  FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

"  Certainly,"  Jack  said  with  a  pleased  look  ;  and 
accompanied  by  Alice  he  walked  across  the  lawn 
toward  her. 

Nelly  turned  the  instant  that  they  moved,  and 
walking  away  joined  some  other  girls.  Jack,  how- 
ever, followed. 

"  Nelly,"  he  said,  when  he  reached  her,  "  this  is 
Miss  Merton,  who  wants  to  know  you.  Miss  Mer- 
ton,  this  is  my  friend  Nelly  Hardy." 

Nelly  bent  her  head  silently,  but  Alice  held  out 
her  hand  frankly. 

"Jack  has  told  me  so  much  about  you,"  she  said, 
"  that  I  wanted,  above  all  things,  to  see  you." 

Nelly  looked  steadily  up  into  her  face.  It  was  a 
face  any  one  might  look  at  with  pleasure,  frank, 
joyous,  and  kindly.  It  was  an  earnest  face  too, 
less  marked  and  earnest  than  that  now  looking  at 
her,  but  with  lines  of  character  and  firmness. 

Nelly's  expression  softened  as  she  gazed. 

"  You  are  very  good,  Miss  Merton  ;  I  have  often 
heard  of  you  too,  and  wanted  to  see  you  as  much 
as  you  could  have  done  to  see  me." 

"  I  hope  you  like  me  now  you  do  see  me,"  Miss 
Merton  laughed  ;  "you  won't  be  angry  when  I  say 
that  I  like  you,  though  you  did  turn  away  when  you 
saw  us  coming." 

"  You  are  accustomed  to  meet  people  and  be 
introduced,"  Nelly  said  quietly  ;  «'  I  am  not,  you 


A  KNOTTY  QUESTION.  209 

"I  don't  think  you  are  shy,"  Miss  Merton  said, 
smiling,  "  but  you  had  a  reason  ;  perhaps  some  day 
when  we  know  each  other  better  you  will  tell  me. 
I  have  been  scolding  Jack  for  making  such  a  figure 
of  himself.  You  are  his  friend  and  should  not  let 
him  do  it." 

Jack  laughed,  while  Nelly  looked  in  surprise  at 
him. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ? "  she  asked ;  "  I 
don't  see  that  there  is  anything  wrong." 

"  Not  wrong,"  Miss  Merton  said,  "  only  singular 
to  me.  He  has  got  on  clothes  just  like  all  the  rest, 
which  don't  fit  him  at  all,  and  look  as  if  they  had 
been  made  to  put  on  to  a  wooden  figure  in  a  shop 
window,  while  when  we  see  him  he  is  always  prop- 
erly dressed." 

Nelly  flashed  a  quiet  look  of  inquiry  at  Jack. 

"  You  never  told  me,  Jack,"  she  said,  with  an 
aggrieved  ring  in  her  voice,  "  that  you  dressed  dif- 
ferently at  Birmingham  to  what  you  do  here." 

"  There  was  nothing  to  tell  really,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  I  told  you  that  I  had  had  some  clothes  made  there, 
and  always  wore  them  at  Mr.  Merton's  ;  but  I  don't 
know,"  and  he  smiled,  "  that  I  did  enter  into  any 
particulars  about  their  cut ;  indeed  I  never  thought 
of  this  myself." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  did,  Jack,"  the  girl  said 
gently,  for  she  knew  how  absolutely  truthful  he  was  ; 
"  but  you  ought  to  have  told  me.  But  see,  they  are 
14 


210  FACING  DEA  TH. 

getting  ready  to  go  into  the  tent,  and  I  must  help 
look  after  the  young  ones." 

"  What  a  fine  face  she  has  1  "  Alice  said  ;  "  but  I 
don't  think  she  quite  likes  me,  Jack." 

"  Not  like  you !  "  Jack  said,  astonished,  "  what 
makes  you  think  that  ?  she  was  sure  to  like  you ; 
why,  even  if  nobody  else  liked  you  Nelly  would,  be^ 
cause  you  have  been  so  kind  to  me." 

For  the  next  few  days  the  serious  events  of  the 
night  absorbed  all  thought ;  indeed,  it  was  not  until 
the  following  Sunday  afternoon  that  Jack  and 
Nelly  Hardy  met.  Harry  Shepherd,  who  generally 
accompanied  them  in  their  walks  upon  this  day, 
was  still  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  injuries  he 
had  received  in  the  riot.  Jack  and  his  companion 
talked  over  that  event  until  they  turned  to  come 
back. 

Then  after  a  pause  the  girl  asked  suddenly, 
'*  How  do  you  like  Alice  Merton,  Jack  ? " 

Jack  was  in  no  way  taken  by  surprise,  but, 
ignorant  that  the  black  eyes  were  keenly  watching 
him,  he  replied : 

"  Oh,  I  like  her  very  much,  I  have  often  told  you 
so,  Nelly." 

"  Do  you  like  her  better  than  me,  Jack  ?  " 

Jack  looked  surprised  this  time. 

"  What  should  put  such  a  thought  in  your  head, 
lass  ?  You  know  I  like  you  and  Harry  better  than 


A  KNOTTY  QUESTION.  in 

any  one  In  the  world.  We  are  like  three  brothers. 
It  is  not  likely  I  should  like  Alice  Merton,  whom  I 
only  see  once  a  month,  better  than  you.  She  is 
very  kind,  very  pleasant,  very  bright.  She  treats 
me  as  an  equal  and  I  would  do  anything  for  her,  but 
she  couldn't  be  the  same  as  you  are,  no  one  can. 
Perhaps,'*  he  said,  "  years  on — for  you  know  that  I 
have  always  said  that  I  should  not  marry  till  I'm 
thirty,  that's  what  my  good  friend  told  me  more 
than  ten  years  ago — I  shall  find  some  one  I  shall 
like  as  well  as  you,  but  that  will  be  in  a  different 
way,  and  you  will  be  married  years  and  years  before 
that.  Let  me  think,  you  are  nearly  seventeenf 
Nelly  ?  "  The  girl  nodded,  her  face  was  turned  the 
other  way.  "  Yes,  you  are  above  a  year  younger 
than  I  am.  Some  girls  marry  by  seventeen ;  I 
wonder  no  one  has  been  after  you  already,  Nelly ; 
there  is  no  girl  in  the  village  to  compare  with  you." 
But  Nelly,  without  a  word,  darted  away  at  full 
speed  up  the  lane  toward  home,  leaving  Jack  speech- 
less with  astonishment.  "  She  hasn't  done  that  for 
years,"  he  said  ;  "  it's  just  the  way  she  used  to  do 
when  we  were  first  friends.  If  she  got  in  a  temper 
about  anything  she  would  rush  away  and  hide  her- 
self  and  cry  for  hours.  What  could  I  have  said  to 
vex  her,  about  her  marrying,  or  having  some  one 
courting  her ;  there  couldn't  be  anything  in  that  to 
vex  her.'*  Jack  thought  for  some  time,  sitting  upon 
a  stile  the  better  to  give  his  mind  to  it.  Finally  he 


DEATH. 

gave  up  the  problem  in  despair,  grumbling  to  him- 
self, "  One  never  gets  to  understand  girls ;  here 
I've  known  Nelly  for  the  last  seven  years  like  a 
sister,  and  there  she  flies  away  crying — I  am  sure 
she  was  crying,  because  she  always  used  to  cry 
when  she  ran  away — and  what  it  is  about  I  have 
not  the  least  idea.  Now  I  mustn't  say  anything 
about  it  when  I  meet  her  next,  I  know  that  of  old, 
unless  she  does  first,  but  as  likely  as  not  she  will 
never  allude  to  it." 

In  fact  no  allusion  ever  was  made  to  the  circum- 
stance, for  before  the  following  Sunday  came  round 
John  Hardy  had  died.  He  had  been  sinking  for 
months,  and  his  death  had  been  looked  for  for  some 
time.  It  was  not  a  blow  to  his  daughter,  and  could 
hardly  be  a  great  grief,  for  he  had  been  a  drunken, 
worthless  man,  caring  nothing  for  his  child,  and 
frequently  brutally  assaulting  her  in  his  drunken 
fits.  She  had  attended  him  patiently  and  assidu- 
ously for  months,  but  no  word  of  thanks  had  ever 
issued  from  his  lip.  His  character  was  so  well 
known  that  no  one  regarded  his  death  as  an  event 
for  which  his  daughter  should  be  pitied.  It  would, 
however,  effect  a  change  in  her  circumstances. 
Hardy  had,  ever  since  the  attack  upon  the  Vaughan, 
received  an  allowance  from  the  union,  as  well  as 
from  the  sick  club  to  which  he  belonged,  but  this 
would  now  cease ;  and  it  was  conjectured  by  the 
neighbors  that  "  th1  old  ooman  would  have  to  go 


A  KNOTTY  QUESTION.  213 

into  the  house,  and  Kelly  would  go  into  a  factory  at 
Birmingham  or  Wolverhampton,  or  would  go  into 
service."  Nelly's  mother  was  a  broken  woman  ; 
years  of  intemperance  had  prematurely  aged  her, 
and  her  enforced  temperance  during  the  last  few 
months  had  apparently  broken  her  spirit  altogether, 
and  the  coarse,  violent  woman  had  almost  sunk  into 
quiet  imbecility. 


a  1 4  PACING  DEA  TH, 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE   SOLUTION. 

AMONG  others  who  talked  over  Nelly  Hardy's 
future  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dodgson.  They  were 
very  fond  of  her,  for  from  the  first  she  had  been 
the  steadiest  and  most  industrious  of  the  young  girls 
of  the  place,  and  by  diligent  study  had  raised  her- 
self far  in  advance  of  the  rest.  She  had  too  been 
always  so  willing  and  ready  to  oblige  and  help  that 
she  was  a  great  favorite  with  both. 

"I  have  been  thinking,"  Mrs.  Dodgson  said  to 
her  husband  on  the  evening  of  the  day  of  John 
Hardy's  death,  "  whether,  as  Miss  Bolton,  the  as- 
sistant mistress,  is  going  to  leave  at  the  end  of  the 
month,  to  be  married,  Nelly  Hardy  would  not  make 
an  excellent  successor  for  her.  There  is  no  doubt 
she  is  fully  capable  of  filling  the  situation  ;  her 
manners  are  all  that  could  be  wished,  and  she  has 
great  influence  with  the  younger  children.  The 
only  drawback  was  her  disreputable  old  father.  It 
would  hardly  have  done  for  my  assistant  to  appear 
in  school  in  the  morning  with  a  black  eye,  and  for 
gll  the  children  to  know  that  her  drunken  father 


THE  SOLUTION. 

had  been  beating  her.  Now  he  is  gone  that  ob- 
jection is  at  an  end.  She  and  her  mother,  who 
has  been  as  bad  as  the  father,  but  is  now,  I  believe, 
almost  imbecile,  could  live  in  the  little  cottage  Miss 
Bolton  occupies." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  an  excellent  plan,  my  dear, 
excellent  ;  we  could  have  no  one  we  should  like 
better,  or  who  could  be  a  more  trustworthy  and 
helpful  assistant  to  you.  By  all  means  let  it  be 
Nelly  Hardy.  I  will  go  up  and  speak  to  Mr.  Brook 
to-morrow.  As  he  is  our  patron  I  must  consult 
him,  but  he  will  agree  to  anything  we  propose. 
Let  us  say  nothing  about  it  until  you  tell  her  your- 
self after  the  funeral." 

Mrs.  Dodgson  saw  Nelly  Hardy  several  times  in 
the  next  few  days,  and  went  in  and  sat  with  her  as 
she  worked  at  her  mourning  ;  but  it  was  not  until 
John  Hardy  was  laid  in  the  churchyard  that  she 
opened  the  subject. 

"  Come  up  in  the  morning,  my  dear,"  she  had 
said  that  day  ;  "  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

On  the  following  morning  Nelly,  in  her  neatly- 
fitting  black  mourning  dress,  made  her  appearance 
at  the  schoolhouse,  after  breakfast,  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  school  began. 

"  Sit  dqwn,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Dodgson  said,  "  I 
have  some  news  to  give  you  which  will,  I  think, 
please  you.  Of  course  you  have  been  thinking 
what  to  do  ? " 


216  FACING  D&AT&. 

"  Yes,  'm  ;  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  try  and 
get  work  in  a  factory." 

"  Indeed  1  Nelly,"  Mrs.  Dodgson  said  surprised ; 
"  I  should  have  thought  that  was  the  last  thing  that 
you  would  like." 

"  It  is  not  what  I  like,"  Nelly  said  quietly,  "  but 
what  is  best.  I  would  rather  go  into  service,  and 
as  I  am  fond  of  children  and  used  to  them,  I  might, 
with  your  kind  recommendation,  get  a  comfortable 
situation  ;  but  in  that  case  mother  must  go  to  the 
house,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  her  there. 
She  is  very  helpless,  and  of  late  she  has  come  to 
look  to  me,  and  would  be  miserable  among  strangers. 
I  could  earn  enough  at  a  factory  to  .keep  us  both, 
living  very  closely." 

"  Well,  Nelly,  your  decision  does  you  honor,  but 
I  think  my  plan  is  better.  Have  you  heard  that 
Miss  Bolton  is  going  to  leave  us  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  she  was  engaged  to  be  married 
some  day,  'm,  but  I  did  not  know  the  time  was 
fixed." 

"  She  leaves  at  the  end  of  this  month,  that  is  in 
a  fortnight,  and  her  place  has  already  been  filled 
up.  Upon  the  recommendation  of  myself  and  Mr. 
Dodgson,  Mr.  Brook  has  appointed  Miss  Nelly 
Hardy  as  her  successor." 

"  Me  !  "  exclaimed  Nelly,  rising  with  a  be- 
wildered air.  "  Oh,  Mrs.  Dodgson,  you  cannot 
mean  it  ? " 


THE  SOLUTION".  217 

"  I  do,  indeed,  Nelly.  Your  conduct  here  has 
been  most  satisfactory  in  every  way  ;  you  have  a 
great  influence  with  the  children,  and  your  attain- 
ments and  knowledge  are  amply  sufficient  for  the 
post  of  my  assistant.  You  will,  of  course,  have  Miss 
Bolton's  cottage,  and  can  watch  over  your  mother. 
You  will  have  opportunities  for  studying  to  fit  your- 
self to  take  another  step  upward,  and  become  a 
head-mistress  some  day." 

Mrs.  Dodgson  had  continued  talking,  for  she 
saw  that  Nelly  was  too  much  agitated  and  overcome 
to  speak. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Dodgson,"  she  sobbed,  "  how  can  I 
thank  you  enough  ?  " 

"  There  are  no  thanks  due,  my  dear.  Of  course 
I  want  the  best  assistant  I  can  get,  and  I  know  of 
no  one  upon  whom  I  can  rely  more  thoroughly  than 
yourself.  You  have  no  one  but  yourself  to  thank, 
for  it  is  your  good  conduct  and  industry  alone  which 
have  made  you  what  you  are,  and  that  under  cir- 
cumstances of  the  most  unfavorable  kind.  But 
there  is  the  bell  ringing  for  school.  I  suppose  I 
may  tell  Mr.  Brook  that  you  accept  the  situation  ; 
the  pay,  thirty  pounds  a  year  and  the  cottage,  is 
not  larger,  perhaps,  than  you  might  earn  at  a  fac- 
tory, but  I  think " 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Dodgson,"  Nelly  said,  smiling  through 
her  tears,  "  I  accept,  I  accept.  I  would  rather  live 
on  a  crust  of  bread  here  than  work  in  a  factory,  and 


2 18  FA CING  DBA  Tff. 

if  I  had  had  the  choice  of  everything  I  should  prefer 
this." 

Mr.  Dodgson  here  came  in,  shook  Nelly's  hand 
and  congratulated  her,  and  with  a  happy  heart  ths 
girl  took  her  way  home. 

Jack,  upon  his  return  from  the  pit,  found  Nelly 
awaiting  him  at  the  corner  where  for  years  she  had 
stood.  He  had  seen  her  once  since  her  father's 
death,  and  had  pressed  her  hand  warmly  to  express 
his  sympathy,  but  he  was  too  honest  to  condole 
with  her  on  a  loss  which  was,  he  knew,  a  relief. 
He  and  Harry  had  in  the  intervening  time  talked 
much  of  Nelly's  prospects.  Jack  was  averse  in  the 
extreme  to  her  going  into  service,  still  more  averse 
to  her  going  into  a  factory,  but  could  suggest  no 
alternative  plan. 

"  If  she  were  a  boy,"  he  said,  "  it  would  be  easy 
enough.  I  am  getting  eighteen  shillings  a  week 
now,  and  could  let  her  have  five  easily,  and  she 
might  take  in  dressmaking.  There  are  plenty  of 
people  in  the  villages  round  would  be  glad  to  get 
their  dresses  made  ;  but  she  would  have  to  live  till 
she  got  known  a  bit,  and  you  know  she  wouldn't 
take  my  five  shillings.  I  wouldn't  dare  offer  it  to 
her.  Now  if  it  was  you  there  would  be  no  trouble 
at  all ;  you  would  take  it,  of  course,  just  as  I  should 
take  it  of  you,  but  she  wouldn't,  because  she's  a 
lass — it  beats  me  altogether.  I  might  get  mother 
to  offer  her  the  money,  but  Nelly  would  know  it 


THE  SOLUTION.  a  19 

was  me  sharp  enough,  and   it  would  be  all  the 

same." 

"  I  really  think  that  Nelly  might  do  well  wi' 
dressmaking,"  Harry  said  after  a  pause.  "  Here  all 
the  lasses  ha'  learned  to  work,  but,  as  you  say,  in 
the  other  villages  they  know  no  more  than  we  did 
here  three  years  back  ;  if  we  got  some  bills  printed 
and  sent  'em  round,  I  should  say  she  might  do. 
There  are  other  things  you  don't  seem  to  ha'  thought 
on,  Jack,"  he  said  hesitatingly.  "  You're  only 
eighteen  yet,  but  you  are  earning  near  a  pound  a 
week,  and  in  another  two  or  three  years  will  be  get- 
ting man's  pay,  and  you  are  sure  to  rise.  Have 
you  never  thought  of  marrying  Nelly  ?  " 

Jack  jumped  as  if  he  had  trodden  on  a  snake. 

"  I  marry  Nelly ! "  he  said  in  astonishment. 
"  What  1  I  marry  Nelly  !  are  you  mad,  Harry  ? 
You  know  I  have  made  up  my  mind  not  to  marry 
for  years,  not  till  I'm  thirty  and  have  made  my 
way ;  and  as  to  Nelly,  why  I  never  thought  of  her, 
nor  of  any  other  lass  in  that  way ;  her  least  of  all ; 
why,  she  is  like  my  sister.  Whatever  put  such  a 
ridiculous  idea  in  your  head?  Why,  at  eighteen 
boys  haven't  left  school  and  are  looking  forward  to 
going  to  college;  those  boy  and  girl  marriages 
among  our  class  are  the  cause  of  half  our  troubles. 
Thirty  is  quite  time  enough  to  marry.  How  Nelly 
would  laugh  if  she  knew  what  you'd  said  I  " 

"  I  should  advise  you  not  to  tell  her,"  Harry  said 


220  FACMG  DSATft. 

dryly ;  "  I  greatly  mistake  if  she  would  regard  it  as 
a  laughing  matter  at  all." 

"  No,  lasses  are  strange  things,"  Jack  meditated 
again.  "  But,  Harry,  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  and 
are  earning  the  same  wage ;  why  don't  you  marry 
her  ?  " 

"  I  would,"  Harry  said  earnestly,  "  to-morrow  if 
she'd  have  me." 

"  You  would  1  "  Jack  exclaimed,  as  much  as- 
tonished as  by  his  friend's  first  proposition.  "  To 
think  of  that  now  1  Why,  you  have  always  been 
with  her  just  as  I  have.  You  have  never  shown  that 
you  cared  for  her,  never  given  her  presents,  nor 
walked  with  her  nor  anything.  And  do  you  really 
care  for  her,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  Harry  said  shortly,  "  I  have  cared  for  her 
for  years." 

"  And  to  think  that  I  have  never  seen  that  1  " 
Jack  said.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  Why,  you 
are  as  difficult  to  understand  as  she  is,  and  I  thought 
I  knew  you  so  well !  " 

"  What  would  have  been  the  use  ? "  Harry  said. 
"  Nelly  likes  me  as  a  friend,  that's  all." 

44  That's  it,"  Jack  said.  "  Of  course  when  people 
are  friends  they  don't  think  of  each  other  in  any 
other  way.  Still,  Harry,  she  may  get  to  in  time. 
Nelly's  pretty  well  a  woman,  she's  seventeen  now, 
but  she  has  no  one  else  after  her  that  I  know  of." 

"  Well,  Jack,  I  fancy  she  could  have  plenty  after 


THE  SOLUTION.  «2I 

her,  for  she's  the  prettiest  and  best  girl  o'the  place; 
but  you  see,  you  are  always  about  wi'  her,  and  I 
think  that  most  people  think  it  will  be  a  match  some 
day." 

"  People  are  fools,"  Jack  burst  out  wrathfully. 
"  Who  says  so  ?  just  tell  me  who  says  so." 

"  People  say  so,  Jack.  When  a  young  chap  and 
a  lass  walk  together  people  suppose  there  is  some- 
thing in  it,  and  you  and  Nelly  ha'  been  walking 
together  for  the  last  five  years." 

"  Walking  together  !  "  Jack  repeated  angrily ; 
"  we  have  been  going  about  together  of  course,  and 
you  have  generally  been  with  us,  and  often  enough 
half  a  dozen  others ;  that  is  not  like  walking  to- 
gether. Nelly  knew,  and  every  one  knew,  that  we 
agreed  to  be  friends  from  the  day  we  stood  on  the 
edge  of  the  old  shaft  when  you  were  in  the  water 
below,  and  we  have  never  changed  since." 

"  I  know  you  have  never  changed,  Jack,  never 
thought  of  Nelly  but  as  a  true  friend.  I  did  not 
know  whether  now  you  might  think  differently.  I 
wanted  to  hear  from  your  own  lips.  Now  I  know 
you  don't,  that  you  have  no  thought  of  ever  being 
more  than  a  true  friend  to  her,  I  shall  try  if  I  can- 
not win  her." 

"  Do,"  Jack  said,  shaking  his  friend's  hand.  "  I 
am  sure  I  wish  you  success.  Nothing  in  the  world 
would  please  me  so  much  as  to  see  my  two  friends 
marry,  and  though  I  do  think,  yes,  I  realty  do, 


222  FACING  DEATH. 

Harry,  that  young  marriages  are  bad,  yet  I  am 
quite  sure  that  you  and  Nelly  would  be  happy 
together  anyhow.  And  when  do  you  mean  to  ask 
her  ?  " 

"What  an  impatient  fellow  you  are,  Jack!" 
Harry  said,  smiling.  "  Nelly  has  no  more  idea  that 
I  care  for  her  than  you  had,  and  I  am  not  going  to 
tell  her  so  all  at  once.  I  don't  think,"  he  said 
gravely,  "  mark  me,  Jack,  I  don't  think  Nelly  will 
ever  have  me,  but  if  patience  and  love  can  win  her 
I  shall  succeed  in  the  end." 

Jack  looked  greatly  surprised  again. 

"  Don't  say  any  more  about  it,  Jack,"  Harry  went 
on.  "  It  'ull  be  a  long  job  o'  work,  but  I  can  bide 
my  time  ;  but  above  all,  if  you  wish  me  well,  do 
not  even  breathe  a  word  to  Nelly  of  what  I  have 
said." 

From  this  interview  Jack  departed  very  much 
mystified. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  lads 
when  they're  in  love  get  to  be  like  lasses,  there's 
no  understanding  them.  I  know  nowt  of  love  myself, 
and  what  I've  read  in  books  didn't  seem  natural, 
but  I  suppose  it  must  be  true,  for  even  Harry,  who 
I  thought  I  knew  as  well  as  myself,  turned  as  mys- 
terious as — well,  as  a  ghost.  What  does  he  mean 
by  he's  got  to  be  patient,  and  to  wait,  and  it  will  be 
a  long  job  ?  If  he  likes  Nelly  and  Nelly  likes  him 
why  shouldn't  she  ? — I  don't  know  why  they 


SOLUTION.  $23 

shouldn't  marry  in  a  year  or  two,  though  I  do  hate 
young  marriages.  Anyhow  I'll  talk  to  her  about 
the  dressmaking  idea.  If  Harry's  got  to  make  love 
to  her,  it  will  be  far  better  for  him  to  do  it  here 
than  to  go  have  to  walking  her  out  o'  Sundays  at 
Birmingham.  If  she  would  but  let  me  help  her  a 
bit  till  she's  got  into  business  it  would  b^  as  easy 
as  possible." 

Jack,  however,  soon  had  the  opportunity  of  laying 
his  scheme  fully  before  Nelly  Hardy,  and  when  she 
had  turned  off  from  the  road  with  him  she  broke 
out: 

"  Oh,  Jack,  I  have  such  a  piece  of  news  ;  but 
perhaps  you  know  it,  do  you  ?  "  she  asked  jealously. 

"  No,  I  don't  know  any  particular  piece  of  news.  ** 

"  Not  anything  likely  to  interest  me,  Jack  ?  " 

"  No,"  Jack  said,  puzzled. 

"  Honor,  you  haven't  the  least  idea  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  Honor,  I  haven't,"  Jack  said. 

"  I'm  going  to  be  a  schoolmistress  in  place  of 
Miss  Bolton." 

"  No  1  "  Jack  shouted  delightedly  ;  "  I  am  glad, 
Nelly,  I  am  glad.  Why,  it  is  just  the  thing  for  you  ; 
Harry  and  I  have  been  puzzling  our  heads  all  the 
week  as  to  what  you  should  do  I  " 

"  And  what  did  your  united  wisdom  arrive  at  ?  " 
Nelly  laughed. 

"  We  thought  you  might  do  here  at  dressmak- 
ing," Jack  said,  "  after  a  bit,  you  know." 


"  The  thought  was  not  a  bad  one,"  she  said ;  "  it 
never  occurred  to  me,  and  had  this  great  good  for- 
tune not  have  come  to  me  I  might  perhaps  have 
tried.  It  was  good  of  you  to  think  of  it.  And 
so  you  never  heard  a  whisper  about  the  schoolmis- 
tress ?  I  thought  you  might  perhaps  have  sug- 
gested it  somehow,  you  know  you  always  do  sug- 
gest things  here." 

"  No,  indeed,  Nelly,  I  did  not  hear  Miss  Bolton 
was  going." 

"I  am  glad,"  the  girl  said. 

"  Are  you  ?  "  Jack  replied  in  surprise.  "  Why, 
Nelly,  wouldn't  you  have  liked  me  to  have  helped 
you?" 

"  Yes  and  no,  Jack  ;  but  no  more  than  yes.  I 
do  owe  everything  to  you.  It  was  you  who  made 
me  your  friend,  you  who  taught  me,  you  who  urged 
me  on,  you  who  have  made  me  what  I  am.  No, 
Jack,  dear,"  she  said,  seeing  that  Jack  looked  pained 
at  her  thanks  ;  "  I  have  never  thanked  you  before, 
and  I  must  do  it  now.  I  owe  everything  to  you, 
and  in  one  way  I  should  have  been  pleased  to  owe 
this  to  you  also,  but  in  another  way  I  am  pleased 
not  to  do  so,  because  my  gaining  it  by,  if  I  may 
say  so,  my  own  merits,  shows  that  I  have  done  my 
best  to  prove  worthy  of  your  kindness  and  friend- 
ship." 

Tears  of  earnestness  stood  in  her  eyes,  and  Jack 
felt  that  disclaimer  would  be  ungracious. 


THE  SOLUTION.  325 

"I  am  glad,"  he  said  again  after  a  pause. 
"  And  now,  Miss  Hardy,"  and  he  touched  his  hat, 
laughing,  "  that  you  have  risen  in  the  world,  I  hope 
you  are  not  going  to  take  airs  upon  yourself." 

Nelly  laughed.  "  It  is  strange,"  she  said, "  that 
J  should  be  the  first  to  take  a  step  upward,  for  Mrs. 
Dodgson  is  going  to  help  me  to  go  in  and  qualify 
for  a  head-schoolmistressship  some  day  ;  but,  Jack, 
it  is  only  for  a  little  time.  You  laugh  and  call  me 
Miss  Hardy  to-day,  but  the  time  will  come  when  I 
shall  say  '  sir  '  to  you  ;  you  are  longer  beginning, 
but  you  will  rise  far  higher  ;  but  we-  shall  always 
be  friends,  shall  we  not,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Always,  Nelly,"  Jack  said  earnestly.  °  Where- 
ever  or  whatever  Jack  Simpson  may  be,  he  will 
ever  be  your  true  and  faithful  friend,  and  nothing 
which  may  ever  happen  to  me,  no  rise  I  may  ever 
make,  will  give  me  the  pleasure  which  this  good 
fortune  which  has  befallen  you  has  done.  If  I  ever 
rise  it  will  make  me  happy  to  help  Harry,  but  I 
know  you  would  never  have  let  me  help  you,  and 
this  thought  would  have  marred  my  life.  Now  that 
I  see  you  in  a  position  in  which  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  successful,  and  which  is  an  honorable  and  pleas- 
ant one,  I  shall  the  more  enjoy  my  rise  when  it 
comes.  Does  any  one  else  know  of  it  ? "  he  asked 
as  they  went  on  their  way. 

"  No  one,"  she  said.  "  Who  should  know  it  be- 
fore you  ?  " 


226  PA CtttG  SEA  Tfr. 

"  Harry  will  be  as  glad  as  I  am,"  he  said,  re- 
membering his  friend's  late  assertion. 

"  Yes,  Harry  will  be  very  glad,  too,"  Nelly  said  ; 
but  Jack  felt  that  Harry's  opinion  was  of  com' 
paratively  little  importance  in  her  eyes.  "  He  is 
a  good  honest  fellow  is  Harry,  and  I  am  sure  he 
will  be  pleased,  and  so  I  hope  will  every  one." 

Jack  felt  that  the  present  moment  was  not  a  pro- 
pitious one  for  putting  in  a  word  for  his  friend. 
*  *  *  *  * 

Harry  Shepherd  carried  out  his  purpose.  For 
two  years  he  waited,  and  then  told  his  love  to  Nelly 
Hardy  one  bright  Sunday  afternoon  when  they  were 
walking  in  the  lane. 

"  No,  Harry,  no,"  she  said  humbly  and  sadly  ; 
"  it  can  never  be ;  do  not  ask  me,  I  am  so,  so  sorry." 

"  Can  it  never  be  ? "  Harry  asked. 

"  Never,"  the  girl  said ;  "  you  know  yourself, 
Harry,  it  can  never  be.  I  have  seen  this  coming 
on  for  two  years  now,  and  it  has  grieved  me  so  ; 
but  you  know,  I  am  sure  you  know,  why  it  cannot 
be." 

"  I  know,"  the  young  fellow   said.     "  I  have  al- 
ways known  that  you  cared  for   Jack  a  thousand 
times  more  than  for  me,  and   it's  quite  natural,  for 
he  is  worth  a  thousand  of  me  ;  but  then,  then — 
and  he  hesitated. 

"  But  then,"  she  went  on,  "  Jack  does  not  love 
me,  and  you  do.  That  *s  so,  Harry ;  but  since  I  was 


THE  SOLUTION.  337 

a  child  I  have  loved  him.  I  know,  none  better,  that 
he  never  thought  of  me  except  as  a  friend,  that  he 
scarcely  considered  me  as  a  girl.  I  have  never 
thought  that  it  would  be  otherwise.  I  could  hardly 
wish  that  it  were.  Jack  will  rise  to  be  a  great  man, 
and  must  marry  a  lady ;  but,"  she  said  steadfastly, 
"  I  can  go  on  loving  him  till  I  die." 

"  I  have  not  hoped  much,  Nelly,  but  remember 
always,  that  I  have  always  cared  for  you.  Since 
you  first  became  Jack's  friend  I  have  cared  for  you. 
If  he  had  loved  you  I  could  even  stand  aside  and  be 
glad  to  see  you  both  happy,  but  I  have  known  al- 
ways that  this  could  never  be.  Jack's  mind  was 
ever  so  much  given  up  to  study,  he  is  not  like  us 
and  does  not  dream  of  a  house  and  love  till  he  has 
made  his  mark  in  the  world.  Remember  only  that 
I  love  you  as  you  love  Jack,  and  shall  love  as  faith- 
fully. Some  day,  perhaps,  long  hence,"  he  added 
as  Nelly  shook  her  head,  "  you  may  not  think  differ- 
ently, but  may  come  to  see  that  it  is  better  to  make 
one  man's  life  happy  than  to  cling  forever  to  the 
remembrance  of  another.  At  any  rate  you  will  al- 
ways think  of  me  as  your  true  friend,  Nelly,  always 
trust  me  ?  " 

"  Always,  Harry,  in  the  future  more  than  lately, 
for  I  have  seen  this  coming.  Now  that  we  under- 
stand each  other  we  can  be  quite  friends  again." 


238  FA  CING  DBA  Tff. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAUGHAN. 

AT  twelve  o'clock  on  a  bright  summer  day  Mr. 
Brook  drove  up  in  his  dog-cart,  with  two  gentle- 
men, to  the  Vaughan  mine.  One  was  the  govern- 
ment inspector  of  the  district ;  the  other,  a  newly 
appointed  deputy  inspector,  whom  he  was  taking 
his  rounds  with  him,  to  instruct  in  his  duties. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  that  Thompson,  my  manager,  is 
away  to-day,"  Mr.  Brook  said  as  they  alighted. 
"  Had  I  known  you  were  coming  I  would  of  course 
have  had  him  in  readiness  to  go  round  with  you. 
Is  Williams,  the  underground  manager,  in  the  pit  ?M 
he  asked  the  bankman,  whose  duty  it  was  to  look 
after  the  ascending  and  descending  cage. 

"  No,  sir ;  he  came  up  about  half  an  hour  ago. 
Watkins,  the  viewer,  is  below." 

"  He  must  do,  then,"  Mr.  Brook  said,  "  but  I  wish 
Mr.  Thompson  had  been  here.  Perhaps  you  would 
like  to  look  at  the  plan  of  the  pit  before  you  go 
down  ?  Is  Williams'  office  open  ?  " 

f  Yes,  sir, "  the  bankipan  answered. 


fffE  EXPLOSION1  AT  THE  VAUGHAN.    229 

Mr.  Brook  led  the  way  to  the  office. 

"  Hullo  1 "  he  said,  seeing  a  young  man  at  work 
making  a  copy  of  a  mining  plan  ;  "  who  are  you  ?  * 

The  young  man  rose. 

•*  Jack  Simpson,  sir.  I  work  below,  but  when  it*S 
my  night-shift  Mr.  Williams  allows  me  to  help  him 
here  by  day." 

"  Ah,  I  remember  you  now,"  Mr.  Brook  said. 
"  Let  me  see  what  you  are  doing.  That's  a  credit- 
able piece  of  work  for  a  working  collier,  is  it  not  ?  n 
he  said,  holding  up  a  beautifully  executed  plan. 

Mr.  Hardinge  looked  with  surprise  at  the 
draughtsman,  a  young  man  of  some  twenty-one  or 
twenty-two  with  a  frank,  open,  pleasant  face. 

"  Why,  you  don't  look  or  talk  like  a  miner,"  he 
said. 

"  Mr.  Merton,  the  schoolmaster  here,  was  kind 
enough  to  take  a  great  deal  of  pains  with  me,  sir.** 

"  Have  you  been  doing  this  sort  of  work  long?" 
Mr.  Hardinge  asked,  pointing  to  the  plan. 

"About  three  or  four  years,"  Mr.  Brook  said 
promptly. 

Jack  looked  immensely  surprised. 

Mr.  Brook  smiled. 

"  I  noticed  an  extraordinary  change  in  Williams' 
reports,  both  in  the  handwriting  and  expressions. 
Now  I  understand  it  You  work  the  same  stall  as 
Haden,  do  you  not  ?  " 

«*  Yes,  sir,  but  not  the  same  shift ;  he  had  a  mate 


230  FACING  DEATtf. 

he  has  worked  with  ever  since  my  father  was  killed, 
so  I  work  the  other  shift  with  Harvey." 

"  Now  let  us  look  at  the  plans  of  the  pit,"  Mr. 
Hardinge  said. 

The  two  inspectors  bent  over  the  table  and  ex- 
amined the  plans,  asking  a  question  of  Mr.  Brook  now 
and  then.  Jack  had  turned  to  leave  when  his  em- 
ployer ceased  to  speak  to  him,  but  Mr.  Brook  made  a 
motion  to  him  to  stay.  "  What  is  the  size  of  your 
furnace,  Mr.  Brook  ? "  asked  Mr.  Hardinge. 

"It's  an  eight-foot  furnace,"  Mr.  Brook  replied. 

"  Do  you  know  how  many  thousand  cubic  feet 
of  air  a  minute  you  pass  ?  " 

Mr.  Brook  shook  his  head  :  he  left  the  manage- 
ment of  the  mine  entirely  in  the  hands  of  his  man- 
ager. 

Mr.  Hardinge  had  happened  to  look  at  Jack  as  he 
spoke;  and  the  latter,  thinking  the  question  was 
addressed  to  him,  answered  : 

"About  eight  thousand  feet  a  minute,  sir." 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  Mr.  Hardinge  asked. 

"  By  taking  the  velocity  of  the  air,  sir,  and  the 
area  of  the  downcast  shaft." 

"  How  would  you  measure  the  velocity,  theoret- 
ically?" Mr.  Hardinge  asked,  curious  to  see  how 
much  the  young  collier  knew. 

"  I  should  require  to  know  the  temperature  of  the 
shafts  respectively  and  the  height  of  the  upcast 
Shaft." 


THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAVGffAN.    231 

u  How  could  you  do  it  then  ?  " 

"  The  formula,  sir,  is  J/=-ig^  h  being  the 
height  of  the  upcast,  /'  its  temperature,  t'  the  tem- 
perature of  the  exterior  air,  and  x*=tr — 32*  de- 
grees." 

"  You  are  a  strange  young  fellow,"  Mr.  Hardinge 
said.  "  May  I  ask  you  a  question  or  two  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Could  you  work  out  the  cube-root  of  say  999, 
888,777?" 

Jack  closed  his  eyes  for  a  minute  and  then  gave 
the  correct  answer  to  five  places  of  decimals. 

The  three  gentlemen  gave  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  How  on  earth  did  you  do  that  ?  "  Mr.  Hardinge 
exclaimed.  "  It  would  take  me  ten  minutes  to  work 
it  out  on  paper." 

"  I  accustomed  myself  to  calculate  while  I  was 
in  the  dark,  or  working,"  Jack  said  quietly. 

"  Why,  you  would  rival  Bidder  himself,"  Mr. 
Hardinge  said  ;  "  and  how  far  have  you  worked  up 
in  figures  ? " 

"  I  did  the  differential  calculus,  sir,  and  then  Mr. 
Merton  said  that  I  had  better  stick  to  the  me- 
chanical application  of  mathematics  instead  of  go- 
ing on  any  further  ;  that  was  two  years  ago." 

The  surprise  of  the  three  gentlemen  at  this 
simple  avowal  from  a  young  pitman  was  un- 
bounded. 


•3*  FACING  DEATH. 

Then  Mr.  Hardinge  said: 

"We  must  talk  of  this  again  later  on.  Now  let 
us  go  down  the  pic  ;  this  young  man  will  do  ex- 
cellently well  for  a  guide.  But  I  am  afraid,  Mr. 
Brook,  that  I  shall  have  to  trouble  you  a  good 
deal.  As  far  as  I  can  see  from  the  plan  the  mine 
is  very  badly  laid  out,  and  the  ventilation  alto- 
gether defective.  What  is  your  opinion  ?  "  he 
asked,  turning  abruptly  to  Jack,  and  wishing  to  see 
whether  his  practical  knowledge  at  all  corresponded 
with  his  theoretical  acquirements. 

" I  would  rather  not  say,  sir,"  Jack  said.  "  It 
is  not  for  me  to  express  an  opinion  as  to  Mr. 
Thompson's  plan." 

"Let  us  have  your  ideas,"  Mr.  Brook  said. 
"Just  tell  us  frankly  what  you  would  do  if  you 
were  manager  of  the  Vaughan  ? " 

Jack  turned  to  the  plan. 

"  I  should  widen  the  airways,  and  split  the  cur- 
rent ;  that  would  raise  the  number  of  cubic  feet 
of  air  to  about  twelve  thousand  a  minute.  It  is 
too  far  for  a  single  current  to  travel,  especially  as 
the  airways  are  not  wide  ;  the  friction  is  alto- 
gether too  great.  I  should  put  a  split  in  here,  take 
a  current  round  through  the  old  workings  to  keep 
them  clear,  widen  these  passages,  split  the  current 
again  here,  and  then  make  a  cut  through  this  new 
ground  so  as  to  take  a  strong  current  to  sweep  the 
face  of  the  main  workings,  and  carry  it  off  straight 


THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAUGffAM    233 

to  the  upcast.  But  that  current  ought  not  to  pass 
through  the  furnace,  but  be  let  in  above,  for  the 
gas  comes  off  very  thick  sometimes,  and  might  not 
be  diluted  enough  with  air,  going  straight  to  the 
furnaces." 

"  Your  ideas  are  very  good,"  Mr.  Hardinge  said 
quietly.  "  Now  we  will  get  into  our  clothes  and 
go  below." 

So  saying,  he  opened  a  bag  and  took  out  two 
mining  suits  of  clothes,  which,  first  taking  off  their 
coats,  he  and  his  companion  proceeded  to  put  on 
over  their  other  garments.  Mr.  Brook  went  into 
his  office,  and  similarly  prepared  himself  ;  while 
Jack,  who  was  not  dressed  for  mining,  went  to  the 
closet  where  a  few  suits  were  hung  up  for  the  use 
of  visitors  and  others,  and  prepared  to  go  down. 
Then  he  went  to  the  lamp-room  and  fetched  four 
Davy  lamps.  While  he  was  away  Mr.  Brook  joined 
the  inspectors. 

"  That  young  pitman  is  as  steady  as  he  is  clever," 
he  said  ;  "  he  has  come  several  times  under  my  at- 
tention. In  the  first  place,  the  schoolmaster  has 
spoken  to  me  of  the  lad's  efforts  to  educate  himself. 
Then  he  saved  another  boy's  life  at  the  risk  of  his 
own,  and  of  late  years  his  steadiness  and  good  con- 
duct have  given  him  a  great  influence  over  his  com- 
rades of  the  same  age,  and  have  effected  great 
things  for  the  place.  The  vicar  and  schoolmaster 
now  are  never  tired  of  praising  him." 


234  M  CING  £>EA  Tff. 

"  He  is  clearly  am  extraordinary  young  fellow,** 
Mr.  Hardinge  said.  "  Do  you  know  his  sugges- 
tions are  exactly  what  I  had  intended  to  offer  to 
you  myself  ?  You  will  have  some  terrible  explosion 
here  unless  you  make  some  radical  changes." 

That  evening  the  inspectors  stayed  for  the  night 
at  Mr.  Brook's,  and  the  next  day  that  gentleman 
went  over  with  them  to  Birmingham,  where  he  had 
some  business.  His  principal  object,  however,  was 
to  take  them  to  see  Mr.  Merton,  to  question  him 
further  with  regard  to  Jack  Simpson. 

Mr.  Merton  related  to  his  visitors  the  history  of 
Jack's  efforts  to  educate  himself,  and  gave  them 
the  opinion  he  had  given  the  lad  himself,  that  he 
might,  had  he  chosen,  have  taken  a  scholarship  and 
then  the  highest  mathematical  honors.  "  He  has 
been  working  lately  at  engineering,  and  calculating 
the  strains  and  stresses  of  iron  bridges,"  he  said. 
"  And  now,  Mr.  Brook,  I  will  tell  you — and  I  am 
sure  that  you  and  these  gentlemen  will  give  me 
your  promise  of  secrecy  upon  the  subject — what  I 
have  never  yet  told  to  a  soul.  It  was  that  lad  who 
brought  me  word  of  the  intended  attack  on  the 
engines,  and  got  me  to  write  the  letter  to  Sir  John 
Butler.  But  that  is  not  all,  sir.  It  was  that  boy — 
for  he  was  but  seventeen  then — who  defended  your 
engine-house  against  the  mob  of  five  hundred 
men  !  " 

0  Bless  my  heart,  Merton,  why  did  you  not  tell 


THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAUGHAN.    235 

me  before  ?  Why,  I've  puzzled  over  that  ever 
since.  And  to  think  that  it  was  one  of  my  own  pit- 
boys  who  did  that  gallant  action,  and  I  have  done 
nothing  for  him  1  " 

"  He  would  not  have  it  told,  sir.  He  wanted  to 
go  on  as  a  working  miner,  and  learn  his  business 
from  the  bottom.  Besides,  his  life  wouldn't  have 
been  safe  in  this  district  for  a  day  if  it  had  been 
known.  But  I  think  you  ought  to  be  told  of  it  now. 
The  lad  is  as  modest  as  he  is  brave  and  clever,  and 
would  go  to  his  grave  without  ever  letting  out  that 
he  saved  the  Vaughan,  and  indeed  all  the  pits  in 
the  district.  But  now  that  he  is  a  man,  it  is  right 
you  should  know  ;  but  pray  do  not  let  him  imagine 
that  you  are  aware  of  it.  He  is  very  young  yet, 
and  will  rise  on  his  own  merits,  and  would  dislike 
nothing  so  much  as  thinking  that  he  owed  anything 
to  what  he  did  that  night.  I  may  tell  you  too  thaf 
he  is  able  to  mix  as  a  gentleman  with  gentlemen. 
Ever  since  I  have  been  over  here  he  has  come 
'over  once  a  month  to  stay  with  me  from  Saturday 
to  Monday  ;  he  has  mixed  with  what  I  may  call 
the  best  society  in  the  town  here,  and  has  won 
the  liking  and  esteem  of  all  my  friends,  not  one  of 
whom  has  so  much  as  a  suspicion  that  he  is  not  of 
the  same  rank  of  life  as  themselves." 

"  What  am  I  to  do,  Mr.  Hardinge  ?  "  Mr.  Brook 
asked  in  perplexity.  "  What  would  you  advise  ? " 

11 1  should  give  him  his  first  lift  at  once,"  Mr, 


236  FACTNG  DEATH. 

Hardinge  said  decidedly.  "  It  will  be  many  months 
before  you  have  carried  out  the  new  scheme  for  the 
ventilation  of  the  mine  ;  and,  believe  me,  it  will  not 
be  safe,  if  there  come  a  sudden  influx  of  gas,  till 
the  alterations  are  made.  Make  this  young  fellow 
deputy  viewer,  with  special  charge  to  look  after  the 
ventilation.  In  that  way  he  will  not  have  to  give 
instruction  to  the  men  as  to  their  work,  but  will 
confine  his  attention  to  the  ventilation,  the  state  of 
the  air,  the  doors,  and  so  on.  Even  then  his  position 
will  for  a  time  be  difficult ;  but  the  lad  has  plenty 
of  self-control,  and  will  be  able  to  tide  over  it,  and 
the  men  will  get  to  see  that  he  really  understands 
his  business.  You  will  of  course  order  the  under- 
ground manager  and  viewers  to  give  him  every 
support.  The  underground  manager,  at  any  rate, 
must  be  perfectly  aware  of  his  capabilities,  as  he 
seems  to  have  done  all  his  paper  work  for  some 
time." 

Never  were  a  body  of  men  more  astonished  than 
were  the  pitmen  of  the  Vaughan  when  they  heard 
that  young  Jack  Simpson  was  appointed  a  deputy 
viewer,  with  the  special  charge  of  the  ventilation  of 
the  mine. 

A  deputy  viewer  is  not  a  position  of  great  honor ; 
the  pay  is  scarcely  more  than  that  which  a  getter 
will  earn,  and  the  rank  is  scarcely  higher.  This 
Jdnd  of  post,  indeed,  is  generally  given  to  a  miner 
of  experience,  getting  past  his  work — as  care,  atten* 


THE  EXPLOSION  At  THE  V A  UGH  A  if.    237 

tion,  and  knowledge  are  required,  rather  than  hard 
work.  That  a  young  man  should  be  appointed  was 
an  anomaly  which  simply  astonished  the  colliers  of 
the  Vaughan.  The  affair  was  first  known  on  the 
surface,  and  as  the  men  came  up  in  the  cages  the 
news  was  told  them,  and  the  majority,  instead  of 
at  once  hurrying  home,  stopped  to  talk  it  over. 

"  It  be  the  rummest  start  I  ever  heard  on,"  one 
said.  "  Ah  !  here  comes  Bill  Haden.  Hast  heard 
t'  news,  Bill  ?  " 

"  What  news  ?  " 

"  Why,  your  Jack's  made  a  deputy.  What  dost 
think  o'  that  right  over  heads  o'  us  all  ?  Did'st  e'er 
hear  tell  o'  such  a  thing  ?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  Bill  Haden  said  emphatically. 
"  It's  t'  first  time  as  e'er  I  heard  o' t'  right  man 
being  picked  out  wi'out  a  question  o'  age.  I  know 
him,  and  I  tell  'ee,  he  mayn't  know  t'  best  place  for 
putting  in  a  prop,  or  of  timbering  in  loose  ground, 
as  well  as  us  as  is  old  enough  to  be  his  fathers ;  but 
he  knows  as  much  about  t'  book  learning  of  a  mine 
as  one  of  the  government  inspector  chaps.  You 
mightn't  think  it  pleasant  for  me,  as  has  stood  in  t' 
place  o'  his  father,  to  see  him  put  over  my  head, 
but  I  know  how  t'  boy  has  worked,  and  I  know 
what  he  is,  and  I  tell  'ee  I'll  work  under  him  will- 
ing. Jack  Simpson  will  go  far ;  you  as  live  will 
see  it." 

Bill  Haden  was  an  authority  in  the  Vaughan  pit, 


238  FACING  DEATH, 

and  his  dictum  reconciled  many  who  might  othei 
wise  have  resented  the  appointment  of  such  a  lad. 
The  enthusiastic  approval  of  Harry  Shepherd  and 
of  the  rest  of  the  other  young  hands  in  the  mine 
who  had  grown  up  with  Jack  Simpson,  and  knew 
something  of  how  hard  he  had  worked,  and  who 
had  acknowledged  his  leadership  in  all  things,  also 
had  its  effect ;  and  the  new  deputy  entered  upon  his 
duties  without  anything  like  the  discontent  which 
might  have  been  looked  for  being  excited. 

The  most  important  part  of  Jack's  duties  con- 
sisted in  going  round  the  pit  before  the  men  went 
down  in  the  morning,  to  see  that  there  was  no  accu- 
mulation of  gas  in  the  night,  and  that  the  ventila- 
tion was  going  on  properly.  The  deputy  usually 
lakes  a  helper  with  him,  and  Jack  had  chosen  his 
friend  Harry  for  the  post — as  in  the  event  of  find- 
ing gas  it  has  to  be  dispersed  by  beating  it  with  an 
empty  sack,  so  as  to  cause  a  disturbance  of  the  air, 
or,  if  the  accumulation  be  important,  by  putting 
up  a  temporary  bratticing,  or  partition,  formed  of 
cotton  cloth  stretched  on  a  framework,  in  such  a 
way  as  to  turn  a  strong  current  of  air  across  the 
spot  where  the  gas  is  accumulating,  or  from  which 
it  is  issuing.  The  gas  is  visible  to  the  eye  as  a  sort 
of  dull  fog  or  smoke.  If  the  accumulation  is 
serious,  the  main  body  of  miners  are  not  allowed 
to  descend  into  the  mine  until  the  viewer  has,  with 
assistance,  succeeded  in  completely  dispersing  it 


THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAUGHAN1.    239 

"  It's  a  lonesome  feeling,"  Harry  said  the  first 
morning  that  he  entered  upon  his  duties  with  Jack 
Simpson,  "  to  think  that  we  be  the  only  two  down 
here." 

"  It's  no  more  lonesome  than  sitting  in  the  dark 
waiting  for  the  tubs  to  come  along,  Harry,  and  it's 
far  safer.  There  is  not  the  slightest  risk  of  an  ex- 
plosion now,  for  there  are  only  our  safety-lamps 
down  here,  while  in  the  day  the  men  will  open  their 
lamps  to  light  their  pipes ;  make  what  regulations 
the  master  may,  the  men  will  break  them  to  get  a 
smoke." 

Upon  the  receipt  of  Mr.  Hardinge's  official  re- 
port, strongly  condemning  the  arrangements  in  the 
Vaughan,  Mr.  Brook  at  once  appointed  a  new  man- 
ager in  the  place  of  Mr.  Thompson,  and  upon  his 
arrival  he  made  him  acquainted  with  the  extent  of 
Jack's  knowledge  and  ability,  and  requested  him  to 
keep  his  eye  specially  upon  him,  and  to  employ  him, 
as  far  as  possible,  as  his  right-hand  man  in  carrying 
out  his  orders. 

"  I  wish  that  main  wind  drift  were  through," 
Jack  said  one  day,  six  months  after  his  appoint- 
ment, as  he  was  sitting  over  his  tea  with  Bill 
Haden.  "  The  gas  is  coming  in  very  bad  in  the 
new  workings." 

"  Wuss  nor  I  ever  knew't,  Jack.  It's  a  main  good 
job  that  the  furnace  was  made  bigger,  and  some  o* 
th'  airways  widened,  for  it  does  come  out  sharp 


FA  CING  DEA  Tff. 

surely.  In  th'  old  part  where  I  be,  a'  don't  notice 
it ;  but  when  I  went  down  yesterday  where  Peter 
Jones  be  working,  the  gas  was  just  whistling  out 
of  a  blower  close  by." 

"  Another  fortnight,  and  the  airway  will  be 
through,  dad,  and  that  will  make  a  great  change. 
I  shall  be  very  glad,  for  the  pit's  in  a  bad  state 
now." 

"  Ah  1  thou  think'st  a  good  deal  of  it,  Jack,  be- 
cause thou'st  got  a  part  of  the  'sponsibility  of  it 
It  don't  fret  me." 

"  I  wish  the  men  wouldn't  smoke,  dad  ;  I  don't 
want  to  get  a  bad  name  for  reporting  them,  but  it's 
just  playing  with  their  lives." 

Bill  Haden  was  silent  ;  he  was  given  to  indulge 
in  a  quiet  smoke  himself,  as  Jack,  working  with  him 
for  five  years,  well  knew. 

"  Well,  Jack,  thou  know'st  there's  a  craving  for 
a  draw  or  two  of  bacca." 

"  So  there  is  for  a  great  many  other  things  that 
we  have  to  do  without,"  Jack  said.  "  If  it  were 
only  a  question  of  a  man  blowing  himself  to  pieces 
I  should  say  naught  about  it  ;  but  it  is  whether  he 
is  willing  to  make  five  hundred  widows  and  two 
thousand  orphans  rather  than  go  for  a  few  hours 
without  smoking.  What  is  the  use  of  Davy  lamps  ? 
What  is  the  use  of  all  our  care  as  to  the  ventilation, 
if  at  any  moment  the  gas  may  be  fired  at  a  lamp 
opened  for  lighting  a  pipe  ?  I  like  my  pipe,  but  if 


THE  EXPLOSION  AT  THE  VAUGHAtt.    241 

I  thought  there  was  ever  any  chance  of  its  becom- 
ing my  master  I  would  never  touch  tobacco  again." 

Three  days  later,  when  Jack  came  up  from  his 
founds  at  ten  o'  clock,  to  eat  his  breakfast  and 
write  up  his  journal  of  the  state  of  the  mine,  he  saw 
Mr.  Brook  and  the  manager  draw  up  to  the  pit 
mouth.  Jack  shrank  back  from  the  little  window  of 
the  office  where  he  was  writing,  and  did  not  look 
out  again  until  he  knew  that  they  had  descended 
the  mine,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  have  any  appear- 
ance of  thrusting  himself  forward.  For  another 
hour  he  wrote  ;  and  then  the  window  of  the  office 
flew  in  pieces,  the  chairs  danced,  and  the  walls 
rocked,  while  a  dull,  heavy  roar,  like  distant  thun- 
der, burst  upon  his  ears. 

He  leaped  to  his  feet  and  rushed  to  the  door. 
Black  smoke  was  pouring  up  from  the  pit's  mouth, 
sticks  and  pieces  of  wood  and  coal  were  falling  in 
a  shower  in  the  yard  ;  and  Jack  saw  that  his  worst 
anticipations  had  been  realized,  and  that  a  terrible 
explosion  had  taken  place  in  the  Vaughan  pit. 
16 


242  FA  CING  DEA  Tff, 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IN   DEADLY   PERIL. 

FOR  a  moment  Jack  stood  stunned  by  the  calam- 
ity. There  were,  he  knew,  over  three  hundred  men 
and  boys  in  the  pit,  and  he  turned  faint  and  sick 
as  the  thought  of  their  fate  came  across  him. 
Then  he  ran  toward  the  top  of  the  shaft.  The 
bankman  lay  insensible  at  a  distance  of  some  yards 
from  the  pit,  where  he  had  been  thrown  by  the 
force  of  the  explosion.  Two  or  three  men  came 
running  up  with  white,  scared  faces.  The  smoke 
had  nearly  ceased  already  ;  the  damage  was  done, 
and  a  deadly  stillness  seemed  to  reign. 

Jack  ran  into  the  engine-house.  The  engine-man 
was  leaning  against  a  wall,  scared  and  almost  faint- 
ing. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  John  ?  " 

"  No  I " 

*  Pull  yourself  round,  man.  The  first  thing  is  to 
see  if  the  lift  is  all  right.  I  see  one  of  the  cages  is 
at  bank,  and  the  force  of  the  explosion  is  in  the 
upcast  shaft.  Just  give  a  turn  or  two  to  the  en- 
gine and  see  if  the  winding  gear's  all  right.  Slowly." 


IN  DEADL  Y  PERIL.  243 

The  engine-man  turned  on  the  steam  ;  there  was 
a  slight  movement,  and  then  the  engine  stopped. 

"  A  little  more  steam,"  Jack  said.  "  The  cage 
has  caught,  but  it  may  come." 

There  was  a  jerk,  and  then  the  engine  began  to 
work. 

"  That  is  all  right,"  Jack  said,  "  whether  the 
lower  cage  is  on  or  not.  Stop  now,  and  wind  it 
back,  and  get  the  cage  up  again.  Does  the  bell 
act,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Jack  pulled  the  wire  which,  when  in  order,  struck 
a  bell  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  and  then  looked 
at  a  bell  hanging  over  his  head  for  the  answer. 
None  came. 

"  I  expect  the  wire's  broke,"  Jack  said,  and  went 
out  to  the  pit's  mouth  again. 

The  surface-men  were  all  gathered  round  now, 
the  tipmen,  and  the  yardmen,  and  those  from  the 
coke  ovens,  all  looking  wild  and  pale. 

"  I  am  going  down,"  Jack  said  ;  "  we  may  find 
some  poor  fellows  near  the  bottom,  and  can't  wait 
till  some  headman  comes  on  the  ground.  Who 
will  go  with  me  ?  I  don't  want  any  married  men, 
for  you  know,  lads,  there  may  be  another  blow  at 
any  moment." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  one  of  the  yardmen  said, 
"  stepping  forward  ;  "  there's  no  one  dependent  on 
me." 

•'  I,  too,"  said  another  ;  "  it's  no  odds  to  any  one 


244  FACING  DEATH. 

but  myself  whether  I  come  up  again  or  not 
Here's  with  you,  whatever  comes  of  it." 

Jack  brought  three  safety-lamps  from  the  lamp- 
room,  and  took  his  place  in  the  cage  with  the  two 
volunteers. 

"  Lower,  away,"  he  shouted,  "  but  go  very  slow 
when  we  get  near  the  bottom,  and  look  out  for  our 
signal." 

It  was  but  three  minutes  from  the  moment  that 
the  cage  began  to  sink  to  that  when  it  touched  the 
bottom  of  the  shaft,  but  it  seemed  an  age  to  those 
in  it.  They  knew  that  at  any  moment  a  second 
explosion  might  come,  and  that  they  might  be 
driven  far  up  into  the  air  above  the  top  of  the  shaft, 
mere  scorched  fragments  of  flesh.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken  during  the  descent,  and  there  was  a  general 
exclamation  of  "  Thank  God  1 "  when  they  felt  the 
cage  touch  the  bottom. 

Jack,  as  an  official  of  the  mine,  and  by  virture  of 
superior  energy,  at  once  took  the  lead. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  let  us  push  straight  up  the 
main  road." 

Just  as  they  stepped  out  they  came  across  the 
bodies  of  two  men,  and  stooped  over  them  with 
their  lamps. 

"  Both  dead,"  Jack  said ;  "  we  can  do  naught  for 
them." 

A  little  way  on,  and  in  a  heap  were  some  wagons, 
thrown  together  and  broken  up,  the  body  of  a  pony, 


IN  DEADL  Y  PERIL.  245 

and  that  of  the  lad,  his  driver.  Then  they  came  to 
the  first  door — a  door  no  longer,  not  a  fragment  of 
it  remaining.  In  the  door-boy's  niche  the  lad  lay 
in  a  heap.  They  bent  over  him. 

"  He  is  alive,"  Jack  said.  "  Will  you  two  carry 
him  to  the  cage  ?  I  will  look  round  and  see  if  there 
is  any  one  else  about  here ;  beyond,  this  way,  there 
is  no  hope.  Make  haste  !  Look  how  the  gas  is 
catching  inside  the  lamps,  the  place  is  full  of  fire- 
damp." 

The  men  took  up  the  lad,  and  turned  to  go  to  the 
bottom  of  the  shaft.  Jack  looked  a  few  yards 
down  a  crossroad,  and  then  followed  them.  He 
was  in  the  act  of  turning  into  the  next  road  to 
glance  at  that  also,  when  he  felt  a  suck  of  air. 

"  Down  on  your  faces  I  "  he  shouted,  and,  spring- 
ing a  couple  of  paces  further  up  the  crossroad, 
threw  himself  on  his  face. 


246  FACING  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS. 

THERE  was  a  mighty  roar — a  thundering  sound, 
as  of  an  express  train — a  blinding  light,  and  a 
scorching  heat.  Jack  felt  himself  lifted  from  the 
ground  by  the  force  of  the  blast,  and  dashed  down 
again. 

Then  he  knew  it  was  over,  and  staggered  to  his 
feet.  The  force  of  the  explosion  had  passed  along 
the  main  road,  and  so  up  the  shaft,  and  he  owed  his 
Kfe  to  the  fact  that  he  had  been  in  the  road  off  the 
course.  He  returned  into  the  main  road,  but  near 
the  bottom  of  the  shaft  he  was  brought  to  a  stand- 
still. The  roof  had  fallen,  and  the  passage  was 
blocked  with  fragments  of  rock  and  broken  wagons. 
He  knew  that  the  bottom  of  the  shaft  must  be 
partly  filled  up,  that  his  comrades  were  killed,  and 
that  there  was  no  hope  of  escape  in  that  direction, 
For  a  moment  he  paused  to  consider ;  then,  turning 
up  the  side  road  to  the  left,  he  ran  at  full  speed, 
from  the  shaft.  He  knew  that  the  danger  now  was 
not  so  much  from  the  fire-damp — the  explosive  gas 
«~as  from  the  even  more  dreaded  choke-darop, 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  347 

which  surely  follows  after  an  explosion  and  the 
cessation  of  ventilation. 

Many  more  miners  are  killed  by  this  choke-damp, 
as  they  hasten  to  the  bottom  of  the  shaft  after  an 
explosion,  than  by  the  fire  itself.  Choke-damp, 
which  is  carbonic  acid  gas,  is  heavier  than  ordinary 
air,  and  thus  the  lowest  parts  of  a  colliery  become 
first  filled  with  it,  as  they  would  with  water.  In 
all  coal-mines  there  is  a  slight,  sometimes  a  con- 
siderable, inclination,  or  "  dip,"  as  it  is  called,  of  the 
otherwise  flat  bed  of  coal.  The  shaft  is  almost 
always  sunk  at  the  lower  end  of  the  area  owned  by 
the  proprietors  of  the  mine,  as  by  this  means  the 
whole  pit  naturally  drains  to  the  "  sump,"  or  well, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  whence  it  is  pumped  up 
by  the  engine  above ;  the  loaded  wagons,  too,  are 
run  down  from  the  workings  to  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft  with  comparative  ease. 

The  explosion  had,  as  Jack  well  knew,  destroyed 
all  the  doors  which  direct  the  currents  of  the  air, 
and  the  ventilation  had  entirely  ceased.  The  lower 
part  of  the  mine,  where  the  explosion  had  been 
strongest,  would  soon  be  filled  with  choke-damp, 
the  product  of  the  explosion,  and  Jack  was  making 
for  the  old  workings,  near  the  upper  boundary  line 
of  the  pit.  There  the  air  would  remain  pure  long 
after  it  had  been  vitiated  elsewhere. 

It  was  in  this  quarter  of  the  mine  that  Bill  Haden 
and  some  twenty  other  colliers  worked. 


4$  PACING 

Presently  Jack  saw  lights  ahead,  and  heard  a 
clattering  of  steps.  It  was  clear  that,  as  he  had 
hoped,  the  miners  working  there  had  escaped  the 
force  of  the  explosion,  which  had,  without  doubt, 
played  awful  havoc  in  the  parts  of  the  mine  where 
the  greater  part  of  the  men  were  at  work. 

"  Stop  1  stop  1 "  Jack  shouted,  as  they  came  up  to 
him. 

"  Is  it  fire,  Jack  ?  "  Bill  Haden,  who  was  one  of 
the  first,  asked. 

"  Yes,  Bill ;  didn't  you  feel  it  ?  " 

"  Some  of  us  thought  we  felt  a  suck  of  air  a 
quarter  hour  since,  but  we  weren't  sure  ;  and  then 
came  another,  which  blew  out  the  lights.  Come 
along,  lad  ;  there  is  no  time  for  talking." 

"  It's  of  no  use  going  on,"  Jack  said  ;  "  the 
shaft's  choked  up.  I  came  down  after  the  first 
blow,  and  I  fear  there's  no  living  soul  in  the  new 
workings.  By  this  time  they  must  be  full  of  the 
choke-damp." 

The  men  looked  at  each  other  with  blank  faces. 

"  Hast  seen  Brook  ?  "  Jack  asked  eagerly. 

"  Aye,  he  passed  our  stall  with  Johnstone  ten 
minutes  ago,  just  before  the  blast  came." 

"  We  may  catch  him  in  time  to  stop  him  yet,"  Jack 
said,  "  if  he  has  gone  round  to  look  at  the  walling  of 
the  old  goafs.  There  are  three  men  at  work  there." 

"  I'll  go  with  you,  Jack,"  Bill  Haden  said.  "  Our 
best  place  is  my  stall,  lads,"  he  went  on,  turning  to 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  24$ 

the  others  ;  "  that  is  pretty  well  the  highest  ground 
in  the  pit,  and  the  air  will  keep  good  there  as  long 
as  anywhere — maybe  till  help  comes.  You  come 
along  of  us,  mate,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  man  who 
worked  with  him  in  his  stall. 

As  they  hurried  along,  Jack,  in  a  few  words,  told 
what  had  taken  place,  as  far  as  he  knew  it.  Five 
minutes'  run  brought  them  to  the  place  where  the 
masons  were  at  work  walling  up  the  entrance  to 
some  old  workings.  They  looked  astonished  at  the 
newcomers. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  gaffers  ?  " 

"  Aye,  they  ha'  just  gone  on.  There,  don't  you 
see  their  lights  down  the  heading?  No;  well  I 
saw  'em  a  moment  since." 

"  Come  along,"  Jack  said.  "  Quick  I  I  expect 
they've  met  it." 

At  full  speed  they  hurried  along.  Presently  they 
all  stopped  short  ;  the  lights  burned  low,  and  a 
choking  sensation  came  on  them. 

"  Back,  Jack,  for  your  life  !  "  gasped  Bill  Haden ; 
but  at  that  moment  Jack's  feet  struck  something, 
which  he  knew  was  a  body. 

"  Down  at  my  feet  ;  help  I  "  he  cried. 

He  stooped  and  tried  to  raise  the  body.  Then 
the  last  gleam  of  his  light  went  out — his  lungs 
seemed  to  cease  acting,  and  he  saw  no  more. 

When  he  came  to  himself  again  he  was  being 
carried  on  Bill  Haden's  shoulder. 


250  FACING  DEATH. 

"  All  right,  dad,"  he  said.  "  I  am  coming  round 
now;  put  me  down." 

"  That's  a  good  job,  Jack.  I  thought  thou'd'st 
scarce  come  round  again." 

"  Have  you  got  either  of  the  others  ?  " 

"  We've  got  Brook  ;  you'd  your  arm  round  him 
so  tight  that  Ned  and  I  lifted  you  together.  He's 
on  ahead  ;  the  masons  are  carrying  him,  and  Ned's 
showing  the  way.  Canst  walk  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  better  now.  How  did  you  manage  to 
breathe,  dad  ?  " 

"  We  didn't  breathe,  Jack  ;  we're  too  old  hands 
for  that.  When  we  saw  you  fall  we  just  drew  back, 
took  a  breath,  and  then  shut  our  mouths,  and  went 
down  for  you  just  the  same  as  if  we'd  been  a-groping 
for  you  under  water.  We  got  hold  of  you  both,  lifted 
you  up,  and  carried  you  along  as  far  as  we  could 
before  we  drew  a  breath  again.  You're  sharp,  Jack, 
but  you  don't  know  everything  yet."  And  Bill 
Haden  chuckled  to  find  that  for  once  his  practical 
experience  taught  him  something  that  Jack  had  not 
learned  from  his  books. 

Jack  now  hurried  along  after  Bill  Haden,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  reached  the  place  fixed  upon.  Here 
the  miners  were  engaged  in  restoring  conscious- 
ness to  Mr.  Brook,  who,  under  the  influence  of 
water  dashed  on  his  face  and  artificial  respiration 
set  up  by  alternately  pressing  upon  the  chest  and 
allowing  it  to  rise  again,  was  just  beginning  to  show 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  251 

signs  of  life.  Their  interest  in  their  employment 
was  so  great  that  it  was  not  until  Mr.  Brook  was 
able  to  sit  up  that  they  began  to  talk  about  the 
future. 

Jack's  account  of  the  state  of  things  near  the 
shaft  was  listened  to  gravely.  The  fact  that  the 
whole  of  the  system  of  ventilation  had  been  de- 
ranged, and  the  proof  given  by  the  second  explosion 
that  the  mine  was  somewhere  on  fire,  needed  no 
comment  to  these  experienced  men.  It  sounded 
their  death-knell.  Gallant  and  unceasing  as  would 
be  the  efforts  made  under  any  other  circumstance 
to  rescue  them,  the  fact  that  the  pit  was  on  fire,  and 
that  fresh  explosions  might  at  any  moment  take 
place,  would  render  it  an  act  of  simple  madness  for 
their  friends  above  to  endeavor  to  clear  the  shaft 
and  headings,  and  to  restore  the  ventilation.  The 
fact  was  further  impressed  upon  them  by  a  sudden 
and  simultaneous  flicker  of  the  lamps,  and  a  faint 
shake,  followed  by  a  distant  rumble. 

"  Another  blast,"  Bill  Haden  said.  "  That  set- 
tles us,  lads.  We  may  as  well  turn  out  all  the  lamps 
but  two,  so  as  to  have  light  as  long  as  we  last 
out." 

"  Is  there  no  hope  ? "  Mr.  Brook  asked  presently, 
coming  forward  after  he  had  heard  from  Haden's 
mate  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  so  far 
saved. 

"  Not  a  scrap,  master,"  said  Bill  Haden.    "  Wt 


*5»  FACING  DEATH. 

are  like  rats  in  a  trap  ;  and  it  would  ha*  been  kinder 
of  us  if  we'd  a  let  you  lay  as  you  was." 

"  Your  intention  was  equally  kind,"  Mr.  Brook 
said.  "  But  is  there  nothing  that  we  can  do  ?  " 

"  Nowt,"  Bill  Haden  said.  "  We  have  got  our 
dinners  wi*  us,  and  might  make  'em  last,  a  mouthful 
at  a  time,  to  keep  life  in  us  for  a  week  or  more. 
But  what  'ud  be  th'  use  of  it  ?  It  may  be  weeks — 
aye,  or  months — before  they  can  stifle  the  fire  and 
make  their  way  here." 

"  Can  you  suggest  nothing,  Jack  ? "  Mr.  Brook 
asked.  "  You  are  the  only  officer  of  the  pit  left 
now,"  he  added  with  a  faint  smile. 

Jack  had  not  spoken  since  he  reached  the  stall, 
but  had  sat  down  on  a  block  of  coal,  with  his  el- 
bows on  his  knees  and  his  chin  on  his  hands — a 
favorite  attitude  of  his  when  thinking  deeply. 

The  other  colliers  had  thrown  themselves  down 
on  the  ground ;  some  sobbed  occasionally  as  they 
thought  of  their  loved  ones  above,  some  lay  in 
silence. 

Jack  answered  the  appeal  by  rising  to  his  feet 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  think  we  may  do  something." 

The  men  raised  themselves  in  surprise. 

'« In  the  first  place,  sir,  I  should  send  men  in  each 
direction  to  see  how  near  the  choke-damp  has  got. 
There  are  four  roads  by  which  it  could  come  up.  I 
would  shut  the  doors  on  this  side  of  the  place  it  has 
got  to,  roll  blocks  of  coal  and  rubbish  to  keep  'em 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  253 

tight,  and  stop  up  the  chinks  with  wet  mud.  That 
will  keep  the  gas  from  coming  up,  and  there  is  air 
enough  in  the  stalls  and  headings  to  last  us  a  long 
time." 

"  But  that  would  only  prolong  our  lives  for  a  few 
hours,  Jack,  and  I  don't  know  that  that  would  be 
any  advantage.  Better  to  be  choked  by  the  gas 
than  to  die  of  starvation,"  Mr.  Brook  said,  and  a 
murmur  from  the  men  showed  that  they  agreed 
with  him. 

"  I  vote  for  lighting  our  pipes,"  one  of  the  miners 
said.  "  If  there  is  fiery  gas  here,  it  would  be  better 
to  finish  with  it  at  once." 

There  was  a  general  expression  of  approval. 

"  Wait !  "  Jack  said  authoritatively ;  "  wait  till  I 
have  done.  You  know,  Mr.  Brook,  we  are  close  to 
our  north  boundary  here,  in  some  places  within  a 
very  few  yards.  Now  the  '  Logan,'  which  lies  next 
to  us,  has  been  worked  out  years  ago.  Of  course  it 
is  full  of  water,  and  it  was  from  fear  of  tapping 
that  water  that  the  works  were  stopped  here.  A 
good  deal  comes  in  through  the  crevices  in  No.  15 
stall  which  I  expect  is  nearest  to  it.  Now  if  we 
could  work  into  the  '  Logan,'  the  water  would  rush 
down  into  our  workings,  and  as  our  pit  is  a  good 
deal  bigger  than  the  '  Logan*  ever  was  it  will  fill 
the  lower  workings  and  put  out  the  fire,  but  won't 
reach  here.  Then  we  can  get  up  through  the 
'  Logan,'  where  the  air  is  §u*e  to  be  all  right,  a» 


854  FACING  DEATH. 

the  water  will  bring  good  air  down  with  it  We 
may  not  do  it  in  time,  but  it  is  a  chance.  What  do 
you  say,  sir  ?  " 

"  It  is  worth  trying,  at  any  rate,"  Mr.  Brook 
said.  "  Bravo,  my  lad  !  your  clear  head  may  save 
us  yet." 

"  By  gum,  Jack  I  but  you're  a  good  un  1 "  Bill 
Haden  said,  bringing  down  his  hand  upon  Jack's 
shoulder  with  a  force  that  almost  knocked  him 
down ;  while  the  men,  with  revived  hope,  leaped  to 
their  feet,  and  crowding  round  shook  Jack's  hands 
with  exclamations  of  approval  and  delight. 

"  Now,  lads,"  Mr.  Brook  said,  "  Jack  Simpson  is 
master  now  and  we  will  all  work  under  his  orders. 
But  before  we  begin,  boys,  let  us  say  a  prayer.  We 
are  in  God's  hands ;  let  us  ask  His  protection." 

Every  head  was  bared,  and  the  men  stood  rever- 
ently, while,  in  a  few  words,  Mr.  Brook  prayed  for 
strength  and  protection,  and  rescue  from  their 
danger. 

"Now,  Jack,"  he  said,  when  he  had  finished, 
"  give  your  orders." 

Jack  at  once  sent  off  two  men  along  each  of  the 
roads  to  find  how  near  the  choke-damp  had  ap- 
proached, and  to  block  up  and  seal  the  doors.  It 
was  necessary  to  strike  a  light  to  relight  some  of 
the  lamps,  but  this  was  a  danger  that  could  riot  be 
avoided. 

The  rest  of  the  men  were  *ant  roead  to  aD  tba 


Tff£  IMPK/SOXED  MINERS.  255 

places  where  work  had  been  going  on  to  bring  in 
the  tools  and  dinners  to  No.  15  stall,  to  which  Jack 
himself,  Bill  Haden,  and  Mr.  Brook  proceeded  at 
once.  No  work  had  been  done  there  for  years. 
The  floor  was  covered  -with  a  black  mud,  and  a 
close  examination  of  the  face  showed  tiny  stream- 
lets of  water  trickling  clown  in  several  places.  An 
examination  of  the  stalls,  or  working  places,  on 
either  side,  showed  similar  appearances,  but  in  a 
less  marked  degree.  It  was  therefore  determined 
to  begin  work  in  No.  15. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  use  powder,  Jack?  "  Bill 
Haden  asked. 

"  No,  dad ;  without  any  ventilation  we  should  be 
choked  with  the  smoke,  and  there  would  be  the 
danger  from  the  gas.  When  we  think  we  are  get- 
ting near  the  water  we  will  put  in  a  big  shot,  so  as 
to  blow  in  the  face." 

When  the  men  returned  with  the  tools  and  the 
dinners,  the  latter  done  up  in  handkerchiefs,  Jack 
asked  Mr.  Brook  to  take  charge  of  the  food. 

"  There  are  just  twenty  of  us,  sir,  without  you. 
and  nineteen  dinners.  So  if  you  divide  among  us 
four  dinners  a  day,  it  will  last  for  five  days,  and  by 
that  time  I  hope  we  shall  be  free." 

Four  men  only  could  work  at  the  face  of  the  stall 
together,  and  Jack  divided  the  twenty  into  five 
sets. 

"We  will  work  in  quarter-of-an-hour  shifts  at 


§56  FACING  DEATH. 

first,"  he  said.  "  That  will  give  an  hour's  rest  to  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  work,  and  a  man  can  work 
well,  we  know,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  When 
we  get  done  up,  we  will  have  half-hour  shifts,  which 
will  give  two  hours  for  a  sleep  in  between." 

The  men  of  the  first  shifts,  stripped  as  usual  to  the 
waist,  set  to  work  without  an  instant's  delay ;  and 
the  vigor  and  swiftness  with  which  the  blows  fell 
upon  the  face  of  the  rock  would  have  told  experi- 
enced miners  that  the  men  who  struck  them  were 
working  for  life  or  death.  Those  unemployed,  Jack 
took  into  the  adjacent  stalls  and  set  them  to  work 
to  clear  a  narrow  strip  of  the  floor  next  to  the  up- 
per wall,  then  to  cut  a  little  groove  in  the  rocky 
floor  to  intercept  the  water  as  it  slowly  trickled  in, 
and  lead  it  to  small  hollows  which  they  were  to  make 
in  the  solid  rock.  The  water  coming  through  the 
two  stalls  would,  thus  collected,  be  ample  for  their 
wants.  Jack  then  started  to  see  how  the  men  at 
work  at  the  doors  were  getting  on.  These  had 
already  nearly  finished  their  tasks.  On  the  road 
leading  to  the  main  workings  choke-damp  had  been 
met  with  at  a  distance  of  fifty  yards  from  the  stall ; 
but  upon  the  upper  road  it  was  several  hundred 
yards  before  it  was  found.  On  the  other  two  roads 
it  was  over  a  hundred  yards.  The  men  had  torn 
strips  off  their  flannel  jackets,  and  had  thrust  them 
into  the  crevices  of  the  doors,  and  had  then  plas- 
tered mud  from  the  roadway  on  thickly,  and  there 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  457 

was  no  reason  to  fear  any  irruption  of  choke- 
damp,  unless,  indeed,  an  explosion  should  take 
place  so  violent  as  to  blow  in  the  doors.  This,  how- 
ever, was  unlikely,  as,  with  a  fire  burning,  the  gas 
would  ignite  as  it  came  out;  and  although  there 
might  be  many  minor  explosions,  there  would 
scarcely  be  one  so  serious  as  the  first  two  which 
had  taken  place. 

The  work  at  the  doors  and  the  water  being  over, 
the  men  all  gathered  in  the  stall.  Then  Jack  in- 
sisted on  an  equal  division  of  the  tobacco,  of  which 
almost  all  the  miners  possessed  some — for  colliers, 
forbidden  to  smoke,  often  chew  tobacco,  and  the 
tobacco  might  therefore  be  regarded  both  as  a  lux- 
ury and  as  being  very  valuable  in  assisting  the  men 
to  keep  down  the  pangs  of  hunger.  This  had  to  be 
divided  only  into  twenty  shares,  as  Mr.  Brook  said 
that  he  could  not  use  it  in  that  way,  and  that  he 
had,  moreover,  a  couple  of  cigars  in  his  pocket, 
which  he  could  suck  if  hard  driven  to  it. 

Now  that  they  were  together  again,  all  the  lamps 
were  extinguished  save  the  two  required  by  the  men 
employed.  With  work  to  be  done,  and  a  hope  of 
ultimate  release,  the  men's  spirits  rose,  and  be- 
tween their  spells  they  talked,  and  now  and  then 
even  a  laugh  was  heard. 

Mr.  Brook,  although  unable  to  do  a  share  of  the 
work,  was  very  valuable  in  aiding  to  keep  up  their 
spirits,  by  his  hopeful  talk,  an  1  by  anecdotes  of 


DH.ATH. 

people  who  had  been  in  gre?t  danger  in  many  ways 
in  different  parts  of  the  world,  but  who  had  finally 
escaped. 

Sometimes  one  or  other  of  the  men  would  pro- 
pose a  hymn — for  among  miners,  as  among  sailors, 
there  is  at  heart  a  deep  religious  feeling,  consequent 
upon  a  life  which  may  at  any  moment  be  cut  short 
— and  then  their  deep  voices  would  rise  together, 
while  the  blows  of  the  sledges  and  picks  would 
keep  time  to  the  swing  of  the  tune.  On  the  ad- 
vice of  Mr.  Brook  the  men  divided  their  portions 
of  food,  small  as  they  were,  into  two  parts,  to  be 
eaten  twelve  hours  apart ;  for  as  the  work  would 
proceed  without  interruption  night  and  day,  it  was 
better  to  eat,  however  little,  every  twelve  hours, 
than  to  go  twenty-four  without  food. 

The  first  twenty-four  hours  over,  the  stall — or 
rather  the  heading,  for  it  was  now  driven  as  narrow  as 
it  was  possible  for  four  men  to  work  simultaneously 
— had  greatly  advanced  ;  indeed  it  would  have  been 
difficult  even  for  a  miner  to  believe  that  so  much 
work  had  been  done  in  the  time.  There  was,  how- 
ever, no  change  in  the  appearances  ;  the  water  still 
trickled  in,  but  they  could  not  perceive  that  it  came 
faster  than  before.  As  fast  as  the  coal  fell — for 
fortunately  the  seam  was  over  four  feet  thick,  so 
that  they  did  not  have  to  work  upon  the  rock — it  was 
removed  by  the  set  of  men  who  were  next  for  work, 
bo  that  there  was  not  a  minute  lost  from  this  cause. 


THE  IMPRISONED  MINERS.  259 

During  the  next  twenty-four  hours  almost  as  much 
work  was  done  as  during  the  first  ;  but  upon  the 
third  there  was  a  decided  falling  off.  The  scanty 
food  was  telling  upon  them  now.  The  shifts  were 
lengthened  to  an  hour  to  allow  longer  time  for  sleep 
between  each  spell  of  work,  and  each  set  of  men, 
when  relieved,  threw  themselves  down  exhausted, 
and  slept  for  three  hours,  until  it  was  their  turn  to 
wake  up  and  remove  the  coal  as  the  set  at  work  got 
it  down. 

At  the  end  of  seventy-two  hours  the  water  was 
coming  through  the  face  much  faster  than  at  first, 
and  the  old  miners,  accustomed  to  judge  by  sound, 
were  of  opinion  that  the  wall  in  front  sounded  less 
solid,  and  that  they  were  approaching  the  old  work- 
ings of  the  Logan  pit.  In  the  three  days  and 
nights  they  had  driven  the  heading  nearly  fifteen 
yards  from  the  point  where  they  had  begun.  Upon 
the  fourth  day  they  worked  cautiously,  driving  a 
borer  three  feet  ahead  of  them  into  the  coal,  as  in 
case  of  the  water  bursting  through  suddenly  they 
Would  all  be  drowned. 

At  the  end  of  ninety  hours  from  the  time  of  strik- 
ing the  first  blow  the  drill  which,  Jack  holding  it, 
Bill  Hadenwas  just  driving  in  deeper  with  a  sledge, 
suddenly  went  forward,  and  as  suddenly  flew  out  as 
if  shot  from  a  gun,  followed  by  a  jet  of  water  driven 
with  tremendous  force.  A  plug,  which  had  been 
prepared  in  readiness,  was  with  difficulty  driven  into 


260  FACING  DEATH. 

the  hole  ;  two  men  who  had  been  knocked  down 
by  the  force  of  the  water  were  picked  up,  much 
bruised  and  hurt ;  and  with  thankful  hearts  that 
the  end  of  their  labor  was  at  hand,  all  prepared 
Cor  the  last  and  most  critical  portion  of  their  task. 


CRITICAL  MOMENT,  261 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    CRITICAL    MOMENT. 

AFTFR  an  earnest  thanksgiving  by  Mr.  Brook  for 
their  success  thus  far,  the  whole  party  partook  of 
what  was  a  heartier  meal  than  usual,  consisting  of 
the  whole  of  the  remaining  food.  Then  choosing 
the  largest  of  the  drills,  a  hole  was  driven  in  the 
coal  two  feet  in  depth,  and  in  this  an  unusually 
heavy  charge  was  placed. 

"  We're  done  for  after  all,"  Bill  Haden  suddenly 
exclaimed.  "  Look  at  the  lamp." 

Every  one  present  felt  his  heart  sink  at  what  he 
saw.  A  light  flame  seemed  to  fill  the  whole  interior 
of  the  lamp.  To  strike  a  match  to  light  the  fuse 
would  be  to  cause  an  instant  explosion  of  the  gas. 
The  place  where  they  were  working  being  the  high- 
est part  of  the  mine,  the  fiery  gas,  which  made  its 
way  out  of  the  coal  at  all  points  above  the  closed 
doors,  had,  being  lighter  than  air,  mounted  there. 

"Put  the  lamps  out,"  Jack  said  quickly,  "the 
gauze  is  nearly  red  hot."  In  a  moment  they  were 
in  darkness. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now  ?  "  Mr.  Brook  asked, 
after  a  pause. 


z6i  PACING  DEATH. 

There  Was  silence  for  awhile — the  case  seemed 
desperate. 

"  Mr.  Brook,"  Jack  said  after  a  time, "  it  is  agreed, 
is  it  not,  that  all  here  will  obey  my  orders  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  Jack,"  Mr.  Brook  answered. 

"  Whatever  they  are  ?  " 

"  Yes,  whatever  they  are." 

"  Very  well,"  Jack  said,  "  you  will  all  take  your 
coats  off  and  soak  them  in  water,  then  all  set  to 
work  to  beat  the  gas  out  of  this  heading  as  far  as 
possible.  When  that  is  done  as  far  as  can  be  done, 
all  go  into  the  next  stall,  and  lie  down  at  the  upper 
end ;  you  will  be  out  of  the  way  of  the  explosion 
there.  Cover  your  heads  with  your  wet  coats,  and, 
Bill,  wrap  something  wet  round  those  cans  of 
powder." 

"What  then,  Jack?" 

"  That's  all,"  Jack  said ;  "  I  will  fire  the  train.  If 
the  gas  explodes  at  the  match  it  will  light  the  fuse, 
so  that  the  wall  will  blow  in  anyhow." 

"  No,  no,"  a  chorus  of  voices  said ;  "  you  will  be 
killed." 

"  I  will  light  it,  Jack,"  Bill  Haden  said ;  "  I  am 
getting  on  now,  it's  no  great  odds  about  me." 

"  No,  dad,"  Jack  said,  "  I  am  in  charge,  and  it  is 
for  me  to  do  it.  You  have  all  promised  to  obey  or- 
ders, so  set  about  it  at  once.  Bill,  take  Mr.  Brook 
up  first  into  the  other  stall ;  he  won't  be  able  to  find 
his  way  about  in  the  dark." 


A  CRITICAL  MOMENT.  363 

Without  a  word  Bill  did  as  he  was  told,  Mr. 
Brook  giving  one  hearty  squeeze  to  the  lad's  hand  as 
he  was  led  away.  The  others,  accustomed  to  the 
darkness  from  boyhood,  proceeded  at  once  to  carry 
out  Jack's  instructions,  wetting  their  flannel  jackets 
and  then  beating  the  roof  with  them  toward  the 
entrance  to  the  stall ;  for  five  minutes  they  con- 
tinued this,  and  then  Jack  said : 

"  Now,  lads,  off  to  the  stall  as  quick  as  you  can ; 
cover  your  heads  well  over;  lie  down,  I  will  be 
with  you  in  a  minute,  or — "  or  as  Jack  knew  well 
he  would  be  dashed  to  pieces  by  the  explosion  of 
the  gas.  He  listened  until  the  sound  of  the  last 
footstep  died  away — waited  a  couple  of  minutes,  to 
allow  them  to  get  safely  in  position  at  the  other  end 
of  the  next  stall — and  then,  holding  the  end  of  the 
fuse  in  one  hand  and  the  match  in  the  other,  he 
murmured  a  prayer,  and,  stooping  to  the  ground, 
struck  the  match.  No  explosion  followed  ;  he  ap- 
plied it  to  the  fuse,  and  ran  for  his  life,  down  the 
narrow  heading,  down  the  stall,  along  the  horse 
road,  and  up  the  next  stall.  "  It's  alight,"  he  said, 
as  he  rushed  in. 

A  cheer  of  congratulation  and  gladness  burst  from 
the  men.  "  Cover  your  heads  close,"  Jack  said  as 
he  threw  himself  down  ;  "  the  explosion  is  nigh  sure 
to  fire- the  gas." 

For  a  minute  a  silence  as  of  death  reigned  in  the 
mine ;  then  there  was  a  sharp  cracking  explosion, 


FACING  DEATH. 

followed — or  rather,  prolonged — by  another  like 
thunder,  and,  while  a  flash  of  fire  seemed  to  sur- 
round them,  filling  the  air,  firing  their  clothes,  and 
scorching  their  limbs,  the  whole  mine  shook  with  a 
deep  continuous  roaring.  The  men  knew  that  the 
danger  was  at  an  end,  threw  off  the  covering  from 
their  heads,  and  struck  out  the  fire  from  their  gar- 
ments. Some  were  badly  burned  about  the  legs, 
but  any  word  or  cry  they  may  have  uttered  was 
drowned  in  the  tremendous  roar  which  continued. 
It  was  the  water  from  the  Logan  pit  rushing  into 
the  Vaughan.  For  five  minutes  the  noise  was  like 
thunder,  then,  as  the  pressure  from  behind  decreased, 
the  sound  gradually  diminished,  until,  in  another 
five  minutes  all  was  quiet.  Then  the  party  rose  to 
their  feet.  The  air  in  the  next  stall  was  clear  and 
fresh,  for  as  the  Logan  pit  had  emptied  of  water, 
fresh  air  had  of  course  come  down  from  the  surface 
to  take  its  place. 

"  We  can  light  our  lamps  again  safely  now,"  Bill 
Haden  said.  "  We  shall  want  our  tools,  lads,  and 
the  powder ;  there  may  be  some  heavy  falls  in  our 
way,  and  we  may  have  hard  work  yet  before  we  get 
to  the  shaft,  but  the  roof  rock  is  strong,  so  I  believe 
we  shall  win  our  way." 

"  It  lies  to  our  right,"  Jack  said.  "  Like  our  own, 
It  is  at  the  lower  end  of  the  pit,  so,  as  long  as  we 
don't  mount,  we  are  going  right  for  it." 

There  were,   as  Haden  had  anticipated,  many 


A  CRITICAL  MOMENT.  26$ 

heavy  falls  of  the  roof,  but  the  water  had  swept 
passages  in  them,  and  it  was  found  easier  to  get 
along  than  the  colliers  had  expected.  Still  it  was 
hard  work  for  men,  weakened  by  famine  ;  and  it 
took  them  five  hours  of  labor  clearing  away  masses 
of  rock  and  floundering  through  black  mud,  often 
three  feet  deep,  before  they  made  their  way  to  the 
bottom  of  the  Logan  shaft,  and  saw  the  light  far 
above  them — the  light  that  at  one  time  they  had 
never  expected  to  see  again. 

"  What  o'clock  is  it  now,  sir  ?  "  Bill  Haden  asked 
Mr.  Brook,  who  had  from  the  beginning  been  the 
timekeeper  of  the  party. 

"  Twelve  o'clock  exactly,"  he  replied.  "  It  is 
four  days  and  an  hour  since  the  pit  fired." 

"  What  day  is  it,  sir  ?  for  I've  lost  all  count  of 
time." 

"  Sunday,'  Mr.  Brook  said,  after  a  moment's 
thought. 

"  It  could  not  be  better,"  Bill  Haden  said ;  "  for 
there  will  be  thousands  of  people  from  all  round  to 
visit  the  mine." 

"How  much  powder  have  you,  Bill  ?  "  Jack 
asked. 

"  Four  twenty-pound  cans." 

"  Let  us  let  off  ten  pounds  at  a  time,"  Jack  said. 
"  Just  damp  it  enough  to  prevent  it  from  flashing 
off  too  suddenly  ;  break  up  fine  some  of  this  damp 
wood  and  mix  with  it ;  it  will  add  to  the  smoke," 


266  FACING  DEATtf. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  "  devil "  was  ready,  and  a 
light  applied  ;  it  blazed  furiously  for  half  a  minute, 
sending  volumes  of  light  smoke  up  the  deserted 
shaft. 

"  Flash  off  a  couple  of  pounds  of  dry  powder," 
Bill  Haden  said  ;  "  the*e  is  very  little  draught  up 
the  shaft,  and  it  will  drive  the  air  up." 

For  twenty  minutes  they  continued  letting  off 
"  devils  "  and  flashing  powder.  Then  they  deter- 
mined to  stop,  and  allow  the  shaft  to  clear  alto- 
gether of  the  smoke. 

Presently  a  small  stone  fell  among  them — another 
— and  another,  and  they  knew  that  some  one  had 
noticed  the  smoke. 


RESCUED, 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

RESCUED. 

A  STRANGER  arriving  at  Stokebridge  on  that  Sun- 
day morning  might  have  thought  that  a  fair  or  some 
similar  festivity  was  going  on,  so  great  was  the 
number  of  people  who  passed  out  of  the  station  as 
each  train  came  in.  For  the  day  Stokebridge  was 
the  great  point  of  attraction  for  excursionists  from 
all  parts  of  Staffordshire.  Not  that  there  was  any- 
thing to  see.  The  Vaughan  mine  looked  still  and 
deserted  ;  no  smoke  issued  from  its  chimneys ;  and 
a  strong  body  of  police  kept  all,  except  those  who 
had  business  there,  from  approaching  within  a  cer- 
tain distance  of  the  shaft.  Still  less  was  there  to 
see  in  Stokebridge  itself.  Every  blind  was  down—- 
for scarce  a  house  but  had  lost  at  least  one  of  its 
members  ;  and  in  the  darkened  room  women  sat, 
silently  weeping  for  the  dead  far  below. 

For  the  last  four  days  work  had  been  entirely 
suspended  through  the  district ;  and  the  men  ot 
the  other  collieries,  as  well  as  those  of  the  Vaughan 
who,  belonging  to  the  other  shift,  had  escaped, 
hung  about  the  pit  yard  in  the  vague  hope  of  being 
able  in  some  way  to  be  useful. 


*68  FA CING  DEA  Tff. 

Within  an  hour  of  the  explosion  the  managers  ol 
the  surrounding  pits  had  assembled  ;  and  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  the  three  volunteers  who  had  firs* 
descended  were,  without  doubt,  killed,  plenty  of 
other  brave  fellows  volunteered  their  services,  and 
would  have  gone  down  if  permitted.  But  the  re- 
peated explosions,  and  the  fact  that  the  lower  part 
of  the  shaft  was  now  blocked  up,  decided  the  ex- 
perienced men  who  had  assembled  that  such  a  course 
would  be  madness — an  opinion  which  was  thoroughly 
indorsed  by  Mr.  Hardinge  and  other  government 
inspectors  and  mining  authorities,  who  arrived  with- 
in a  few  hours  of  the  accident. 

It  was  unanimously  agreed  that  the  pit  was  on 
fire,  for  a  light  smoke  curled  up  from  the  pit  mouth, 
and  some  already  began  to  whisper  that  it  would 
have  to  be  closed  up.  There  are  few  things  more 
painful  than  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that  nothing 
can  be  done,  when  women,  half-mad  with  sorrow 
and  anxiety,  are  imploring  men  to  make  an  effort 
to  save  those  below. 

Jane  Haden,  quiet  and  tearless,  sat  gazing  at  the 
fatal  shaft,  when  she  was  touched  on  the  shoulder. 
She  looked  up  and  saw  Harry. 

"  Thou  art  not  down  with  them  then,  Harry  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  almost  wish  I  was,"  Harry  said.  "  I 
came  up  with  Jack,  and  hurried  away  to  get  break- 
fast. When  I  heard  the  blow  I  ran  up,  and  founcl 
Jack  had  just  gone  down.  If  I  had  only  been  neaf 


RESCUED.  269 

I  might  have  gone  with  him  ; "  and  the  young  man 
spoke  in  regret  at  not  having  shared  his  friend's 
fate  rather  than  in  gladness  at  his  own  escape. 

"  Dost  think  there's  any  hope,  Harry  ? " 

"  It's  no  use  lying,  and  there's  no  hope  for  Jack, 
mother,"  Harry  said  ;  "  but  if  any  one's  saved  it's 
like  to  be  your  Bill.  He  was  up  in  the  old  work- 
ings, a  long  way  off  from  the  part  where  the  strength 
of  the  blow  would  come." 

"  It's  no  use  telling  me,  Harry  ;  I  ask,  but  I  know 
how  it  is.  There  ain't  a  chance — not  a  chance  at 
all  If  the  pit's  afire  they'll  have  to  flood  it,  and 
then  it  will  be  weeks  before  they  pump  it  out  again  ; 
and  when  they  bring  Jack  and  Bill  up  I  shan't 
know  'em.  That's  what  I  feel,  I  shan't  even  know 
'em.» 

"  Don't  wait  here,  Mrs.  Haden  ;  naught  can  be 
done  now  ;  the  inspectors  and  managers  will  meet 
this  evening,  and  consult  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"  Is  your  father  down  Harry  ?  I  can't  think  ol 
aught  but  my  own,  or  I'd  have  asked  afore." 

"  No ;  he  is  in  the  other  shift.  My  brother 
Willy  is  down.  Come,  mother,  let  me  take  you 
home." 

But  Mrs.  Haden  would  not  move,  but  sat  with 
scores  of  other  women,  watching  the  mouth  of  the 
pit,  and  the  smoke  curling  up,  till  night  fell. 

The  news  spread  round  Stokebridge  late  in  the 
evening  that  the  managers  had  determined  to  shut  up 


*70  FACING  DEATH. 

the  mouth  of  the  pit,  if  there  was  still  smoke  in  the 
morning.  Then,  as  is  always  the  case  when  such  a 
determination  is  arrived  at,  there  was  a  cry  of  grief 
and  anger  throughout  the  village,  and  all  who  had 
friends  below  protested  that  it  would  be  nothing 
short  of  murder  to  cut  off  the  supply  of  air. 
Women  went  down  to  the  inn  where  the  meeting 
was  held,  and  raved  like  wild  creatures  ;  but  the 
miners  of  the  district  could  not  but  own  the  step 
was  necessary,  for  that  the  only  chance  to  extin- 
guish the  fire  was  by  cutting  off  the  air,  unless  the 
dreadful  alternative  of  drowning  the  pit  was  re- 
sorted to. 

In  the  morning  the  smoke  still  curled  up,  and  the 
pit's  mouth  was  closed.  Boards  were  placed  over 
both  the  shafts,  and  earth  was  heaped  upon  them, 
so  as  to  cut  off  altogether  the  supply  of  air,  and  so 
stifle  the  fire.  This  was  on  Thursday  morning. 
Nothing  was  done  on  Friday  ;  and  on  Saturday 
afternoon  the  mining  authorities  met  again  in  coun- 
cil. There  were  experts  there  now  from  all  parts 
of  the  kingdom — for  the  extent  of  the  catastrophe 
had  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  the  land.  It 
was  agreed  that  the  earth  and  staging  should  be 
removed  next  morning  early,  and  that  if  smoke  still 
came  up,  water  should  be  turned  in  from  the  canal. 

At  six  in  the  morning  a  number  of  the  leading 
authorities  met  at  the  mine.  Men  had  during  the 
night  removed  the  greater  part  of  the  earth,  and 


RESCUED  371 

the  rest  was  now  taken  off,  and  the  planks  with- 
drawn. At  once  a  volume  of  smoke  poured  out 
This  was  in  any  case  expected  ;  and  it  was  not  for 
another  half-hour,  when  the  accumulated  smoke  had 
cleared  off,  and  a  straight  but  unbroken  column  be- 
gan to  rise  as  before,  that  the  conviction  that  th« 
pit  was  still  on  fire  seized  all  present. 

"  I  fear  that  there  is  no  alternative,"  Mr.  Hard- 
inge  said  ;  "the  pit  must  be  flooded." 

There  was  not  a  dissentient  voice  ;  and  the  party 
moved  toward  the  canal  to  see  what  would  be  the 
best  method  of  letting  in  the  water,  when  a  cry  from 
the  men  standing  round  caused  them  to  turn,  and 
they  saw  a  dense  white  column  rise  from  the  shaft, 

"  Steam  1 "  every  one  cried  in  astonishment- 

A  low  rumbling  sound  came  from  the  pit. 

"  What  can  have  happened  ? "  Mr.  Hardinge  ex- 
claimed, in  surprise.  "  This  is  most  extraordinary  t " 

All  crowded  round  the  pit  mouth,  and  could  dis- 
tinctly hear  a  distant  roaring  sound.  Presently  this 
died  away.  Gradually  the  steam  ceased  to  rise, 
and  the  air  above  the  pit  mouth  was  clear. 

«« There  is  no  smoke  rising,"  one  of  the  inspect- 
ors said.  "  What  on  earth  can  have  happened  ? 
Let  us  lower  a  light  down." 

Hoisting  gear  and  rope  had  been  prepared  on 
the  first  day,  in  case  it  should  be  necessary  to  lower 
any  one,  for  the  wire  rope  had  snapped  when  the 
attempt  had  been  made  to  draw  up  the  cage  after 


r2-j 2  FA CING  DEA  Tff. 

the  second  explosion,  and  the  sudden  release  from 
the  strain  had  caused  the  engine  to  fly  round, 
breaking  some  gear,  and  for  the  time  disabling  it 
from  further  work.  A  hundred  and  forty  fathoms 
of  rope,  the  depth  of  the  shaft  being  a  hundred  and 
twenty,  had  been  prepared,  and  was  in  readiness  to 
be  passed  over  a  pulley  suspended  above  the  shaft. 
A  lighted  candle  in  a  candlestick  was  placed  on  a 
sort  of  tray,  which  was  fastened  to  the  rope,  and 
then  it  was  lowered  gradually  down.  Eagerly  those 
above  watched  it  as  it  descended — down — down  till 
it  became  a  mere  speck  below.  Then  it  suddenly 
disappeared. 

"  Stop,"  Mr.  Hardinge,  who  was  directing  the 
operations,  said. 

"  There  are  six  more  fathoms  yet,  sir — nigh  seven 
—before  it  gets  to  the  hundred-and-twenty  fathom 
mark." 

."  Draw  up  carefully,  lads.  What  can  have  put 
the  light  out  forty  feet  from  the  bottom  of  the  shaft  ? 
Choke-damp,  I  suppose  ;  but  it's  very  singular." 

When  the  candle  came  up  to  the  surface  there 
was  a  cry  of  astonishment  ;  the  tray  and  the  candle 
were  wet  1  The  whole  of  those  present  were  as- 
tounded, and  Mr.  Hardinge  at  once  determined  to 
descend  himself  and  verify  this  extraordinary  oc- 
currence. There  was  no  fear  of  an  explosion  now. 
Taking  a  miner's  lamp,  he  took  his  seat  in  a  sling, 
and  was  lowered  down.  Just  before  the  rope  had 


RESCUED.  273 

run  out  to  the  point  at  which  the  light  was  extin- 
guished he  gave  the  signal  to  stop  by  jerking  a  thin 
rope  which  he  held  in  his  hands. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  came 
two  jerks,  the  signal  to  haul  up. 

"  It  is  so,"  he  said,  when  he  gained  the  surface  ; 
"  there  are  forty  feet  of  water  in  the  shaft,  but 
where  it  came  from  is  more  than  I  can  tell." 

Much  astonished  at  this  singular  occurrence,  the 
group  of  mining  engineers  walked  back  to  break- 
fast at  Stokebridge,  where  the  population  was 
greatly  excited  at  the  news  that  the  pit  was  flooded, 
To  the  miners  it  was  a  subject  of  the  greatest  sur- 
prise, while  the  friends  of  those  in  the  pit  received 
the  news  as  the  death-blow  of  their  last  hopes.  It  was 
now  impossible  that  anyone  could  be  alive  in  the  pit. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  mining  authorities  went  again 
to  discuss  the  curious  phenomenon.  All  agreed  that 
it  was  out  of  the  question  that  so  large  a  quantity  of 
water  had  accumulated  in  any  old  workings,  for  the 
plan  of  the  pit  had  been  repeatedly  inspected  by 
them  all.  Some  inclined  to  the  belief  that  there 
must  have  been  some  immense  natural  cavern  above 
the  workings,  and  that  when  the  fire  in  the  pit 
burned  away  the  pillars  left  to  support  the  roof,  this 
must  have  fallen  in,  and  let  the  water  in  the  cavern 
into  the  mine  ;  others  pointed  out  that  there  was  no 
example  whatever  of  a  cavern  of  such  dimensions  as 
this  must  have  been  being  found  in  the  coal  forma- 


*74  FACING  DEATH. 

tion,  and  pointed  to  the  worked-out  Logan  pit, 
which  was  known  to  be  full  of  water,  as  the  prob- 
able source  of  supply. 

During  the  previous  four  days  the  plan  had  been 
discussed  of  cutting  through  from  the  Logan,  which 
was  known  to  have  been  worked  nearly  up  to  the 
Vaughan  boundary.  This  would  enable  them  to 
enter  the  pit  and  rescue  any  miners  who  might  be 
alive,  but  the  fact  that  to  erect  pumping  gear  and 
get  out  the  water  would  be  an  affair  of  many  weeks, 
if  not  months,  had  caused  the  idea  to  be  abandoned 
as  soon  as  broached.  To  those  who  argued  that  the 
water  had  come  from  the  Logan,  it  was  pointed  out 
that  there  were  certainly  several  yards  of  solid  coal 
between  the  Vaughan  and  the  Logan  still  standing, 
and  that  as  the  force  of  the  explosion  was  evidently 
near  the  Vaughan  shaft  it  was  incredible  that  this 
barrier  between  the  pits  should  have  been  shattered. 
However,  it  was  decided  to  solve  the  question  one 
way  or  the  other  by  an  immediate  visit  to  the  top 
of  the  old  Logan  shaft. 

They  were  just  starting  when  they  heard  a  move- 
ment in  the  street,  and  men  setting  off  to  run.  A 
moment  later  a  miner  entered  the  room  hurriedly. 
«« There  be  a  big  smoke  coming  up  from  the  old 
Logan  shaft ;  it  be  too  light  for  coal  smoke,  and  I 
don't  think  it  be  steam  either." 

With  exclamations  of  surprise  the  whole  party 
seized  their  hats  and  hurried  off.  It  was  twenty 


RESCUED.  275 

minutes'  sharp  walking  to  the  shaft,  where,  by  the 
time  they  reached  it,  a  large  crowd  of  miners  and 
others  were  already  assembled.  As  they  approached, 
eager  men  ran  forward  to  meet  them. 

"  It  be  gunpowder  smoke,  sir  I  " 

There  was  indeed  no  mistaking  the  sulphurous 
smell. 

"  It's  one  of  two  things,"  Mr.  Hardinge  said ; 
"  either  the  fire  has  spread  to  the  upper  workings, 
some  powder  bags  have  exploded,  and  the  shock 
has  brought  down  the  dividing  wall,  in  which  case 
the  powder  smoke  might  possibly  find  its  way  out 
when  the  water  from  the  Logan  drained  in  ;  or  else, 
in  some  miraculous  way  some  of  the  men  have  made 
their  escape,  and  are  letting  off  powder  to  call  our 
attention.  At  any  rate  let  us  drop  a  small  stone  or 
two  down.  If  any  one  be  below  he  will  know  he  is 
noticed."  Then  he  turned  to  the  miners  standing 
round  :  "  I  want  the  pulley  and  rope  that  we  were 
using  at  the  Vaughan,  and  that  small  cage  that  was 
put  together  to  work  with  it.  I  want  two  or  three 
strong  poles,  to  form  a  tripod  over  the  pit  here,  and 
a  few  long  planks  to  make  a  stage." 

Fifty  willing  men  hurried  off  to  fetch  the  re- 
quired materials. 

"  The  smoke  is  getting  thinner,  a  good  deal,"  one 
of  the  managers  said.  "  Now,  if  you'll  hold  me,  I 
will  give  a  shout  down." 

The  mouth  of  the  pit  was  surrounded  by  a  wooden 


276  FA  CING  DEA  TIf. 

fencing,  to  prevent  any  one  from  falling  down  it. 
The  speaker  got  over  this  and  lay  down  on  his  face, 
working  nearer  to  the  edge,  which  sloped  danger- 
ously down,  while  others,  following  in  the  same 
way,  held  his  legs,  and  were  in  their  turn  held  by 
others.  When  his  head  and  shoulders  were  fairly 
over  the  pit  he  gave  a  loud  shout. 

There  was  a  deathlike  silence  on  the  part  of  the 
crowd  standing  round,  and  all  of  those  close  could 
hear  a  faint  murmur  come  from  below. 

Then  arose  a  cheer,  echoed  again  and  again,  and 
then  half  a  dozen  fleet-footed  boys  started  for  Stoke- 
briclge  with  the  news  that  some  of  the  imprisoned 
pitmen  were  still  alive. 

Mr.  Hardinge  wrote  on  a  piece  of  paper,  "  Keep 
up  your  courage ;  in  an  hour's  time  the  cage  will 
come  down ; "  wrapped  it  round  a  stone,  and 
dropped  it  down.  A  messenger  was  dispatched  to 
the  Vaughan,  for  the  police  force  stationed  there  to 
come  up  at  once  to  keep  back  the  excited  crowd, 
and  with  orders  that  the  stretcher  and  blankets  in 
readiness  should  be  brought  on ;  while  another 
went  into  Stockbridge  for  a  surgeon,  and  for  a  sup- 
ply of  wine,  brandy,  and  food,  and  two  or  three 
vehicles.  No  sooner  were  the  men  sent  off  than 
Mr.  Hardinge  said  in  a  loud  tone : 

"  Every  moment  must  be  of  consequence ;  they 
must  be  starving.  Will  any  one  here  who  has  fcod 
give  it  for  them  ?  " 


RESCUED.  277 

The  word  was  passed  through  the  crowd,  and  a 
score  of  picnic  baskets  were  at  once  offered.  Filling 
one  of  them  full  with  sandwiches  from  the  rest,  Mr. 
Hardinge  tied  the  lid  securely  on,  and  threw  it 
down  the  shaft.  "  There  is  no  fear  of  their  standing 
under  the  shaft,"  he  said ;  "  they  will  know  we  shall 
be  working  here,  and  that  stones  might  fall." 

In  less  than  an  hour,  thanks  to  the  willing  work 
of  many  hands,  a  platform  was  constructed  across 
the  mouth  of  the  Logan  shaft,  and  a  tripod  of 
strong  poles  fixed  in  its  place.  The  police  kept  the 
crowd,  by  this  time  very  many  thousands  strong, 
back  in  a  wide  circle  round  the  shaft,  none  being 
allowed  inside  save  those  who  had  near  relatives  in 
the  Vaughan.  These  were  for  the  most  part  women, 
who  had  rushed  wildly  up  without  bonnets  or  shawls 
— just  as  they  stood  when  the  report  reached  them 
that  there  were  yet  some  survivors  of  the  explosion. 
At  full  speed  they  had  hurried  along  the  road- 
some  pale  and  still  despairing,  refusing  to  allow 
hope  to  rise  again,  but  unable  to  stay  away  from  the 
fatal  pit ;  others  crying  as  they  ran  ;  some  even 
laughing  in  hysterical  excitement.  Most  excited, 
because  most  hopeful,  were  those  whose  husbands 
had  stalls  in  the  old  workings,  for  it  had  from  the 
first  been  believed  that  while  all  in  the  main  work- 
ings were  probably  killed  at  once  by  the  first  ex- 
plosion, those  in  the  old  workings  might  have 
survived  for  days. 


978  FACING  DEATH, 

Jane  Haden  walked  steadily  along  the  road,  ac- 
companied by  Harry  Shepherd,  who  had  brought 
her  the  news,  and  by  Nelly  Hardy. 

"  I  will  go,"  she  said,  "  but  it  is  of  no  use ;  they 
are  both  gone,  and  I  shall  never  see  them  again." 

Then  she  had  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  de 
liberately  and  slowly,  and  had  started  at  her  ordi- 
nary pace,  protesting  all  along  against  its  being 
supposed  that  she  entertained  the  slightest  hope  ; 
but  when  she  neared  the  spot  her  quivering  lips 
and  twitching  fingers  belied  her  words.  Nelly  re- 
mained outside  the  crowd,  but  Harry  made  a  way 
for  Jane  Haden  through  the  outside  circle  of  spec- 
tators. 

A  smaller  circle  of  some  thirty  yards  in  diameter 
was  kept  round  the  shaft,  and  within  this  only  those 
directing  the  operations  were  allowed  to  enter.  Mr. 
Hardinge  and  one  of  the  local  managers  took  their 
places  in  the  cage.  The  rope  was  held  by  twenty 
men,  who  at  first  stood  at  its  full  length  from  the 
shaft,  and  then  advanced  at  a  walk  toward  it,  thus 
allowing  the  cage  to  descend  steadily  and  easily, 
without  jerks.  As  they  came  close  to  the  shaft  the 
signal  rope  was  shaken ;  another  step  or  two,  slowly 
and  carefully  taken,  and  the  rope  was  seen  to  sway 
slightly.  The  cage  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft. 
Three  minutes'  pause,  the  signal  rope  shook,  and 
the  men  with  the  end  of  the  rope  started  again  to 
rom  the  shaft, 


R&SCVkD. 

As  they  increased  their  distance  the  excitement 
in  the  great  crowd  grew,  and  when  the  cage  showed 
above  the  surface  and  it  was  seen  that  it  contained 
three  miners,  a  hoarse  cheer  arose.  The  men  were 
assisted  from  the  cage,  and  surrounded  for  a  mo- 
ment by  those  in  authority,  and  one  of  the  head 
men  raised  his  hand  for  silence  and  then  shouted  : 

"  Mr.  Brook  and  twenty  others  are  saved  I n 
an  announcement  which  was  received  with  another 
and  even  more  hearty  cheer. 

Passing  on,  the  rescued  men  moved  forward  to 
where  the  women  stood,  anxiously  gazing.  Black- 
ened as  they  were  with  coal-dust  they  were  recog- 
nizable, and  with  wild  screams  of  joy  three  women 
burst  from  the  rest  and  threw  themselves  in  their 
arms.  But  only  for  a  moment  could  they  indulge 
in  this  burst  of  happiness,  for  the  other  women 
crowded  round. 

"Who  is  alive?  For  God's  sake,  tell  us  who  is 
alive?" 

Then  one  by  one  the  names  were  told,  each 
greeted  with  cries  of  joy,  till  the  last  name  was 
spoken  ;  and  then  came  a  burst  of  wailing  and  la- 
mentation from  those  who  had  listened  in  vain  for 
the  names  of  those  they  loved. 

Jane  Haden  had  not  risen  from  the  seat  she  had 
taken  on  a  block  of  broken  brickwork. 

"  No,  no  1  "  she  said  to  Harry,  "  I  will  not  hope  I 
I  will  not  hope  1 "  And  while  Harry  moved  closer 


FAClftQ 

to  the  group  to  hear  the  names  of  the  saved  she  sat 
with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands. 

The  very  first  names  given  were  those  of  Jack 
Simpson  and  Bill  Haden,  and  with  a  shout  of  joy 
he  rushed  back.  The  step  told  its  tale,  and  Jaiie 
Haden  looked  up,  rose  as  if  with  a  hidden  spring, 
and  looked  at  him. 

"  Both  saved  I  "  he  exclaimed ;  and  with  a  strange 
cry  Jane  Haden  swayed  and  fell  insensible* 

An  hour  later  and  the  last  survivor  of  those  who 
were  below  in  the  Vaughan  pit  stood  on  the  sur- 
face, the  last  cage-load  being  Mr.  Brook,  Jack  Simp- 
son, and  Mr.  Hardinge.  By  this  time  the  mourners 
had  left  the  scene,  and  there  was  nothing  to  check 
the  delight  felt  at  the  recovery  from  the  tomb,  as  it 
was  considered,  of  so  many  of  those  deemed  lost. 

When  Mr.  Brook — who  was  a  popular  employer, 
and  whose  popularity  was  now  increased  by  his 
having,  although  involuntarily,  shared  the  dangers 
of  his  men — stepped  from  the  cage,  the  enthusiasm 
was  tremendous.  The  crowd  broke  the  cordon  of 
police  and  rushed  forward,  cheering  loudly.  Mr. 
Hardinge,  after  a  minute  or  two,  held  up  his  hand 
for  silence,  and  helped  Mr.  Brook  on  to  a  heap  of 
stones.  Although  Mr.  Brook,  as  well  as  the 
rest,  had  already  recovered  much,  thanks  to  the 
basket  of  food  thrown  down  to  them,  and  to  the 
supply  of  weak  brandy  and  water,  and  of  soup, 
which  those  who  had  first  descended  had  carried 


RESCUED.  l8t 

with  them,  he  was  yet  so  weakened  by  his  long  fast 
that  he  was  unable  to  speak.  He  could  only  wave 
his  hand  in  token  of  his  thanks,  and  sobs  oi 
emotion  choked  his  words.  Mr.  Hardinge,  how- 
ever, who  had,  during  the  hour  below,  learned  all 
that  had  taken  place,  and  had  spoken  for  some 
time  apart  with  Mr.  Brook,  now  stood  up  beside 
him. 

"  My  friends,"  he  said,  in  a  loud,  clear  voice, 
which  was  heard  over  the  whole  crowd,  "  Mr.  Brook 
is  too  much  shaken  by  what  he  has  gone  through  to 
speak,  but  he  desires  me  to  thank  you  most  heartily 
in  his  name  for  your  t"'"d  greeting.  He  wishes  to 
say  that,  under  God,  his  Ine,  and  the  lives  of  those 
with  him,  have  been  saved  by  the  skill,  courage,  and 
science  of  his  under-viewer,  Jack  Simpson.  Mr. 
Brook  has  consulted  me  on  the  subject,  and  I  thor- 
oughly agree  with  what  he  intends  to  do,  and  can 
certify  to  Jack  Simpson's  ability,  young  as  he  is, 
to  fill  any  post  to  which  he  may  be  appointed.  In 
a  short  time  I  hope  that  the  Vaughan  pit  will  be 
pumped  out  and  at  work  again,  and  when  it  is  Mr. 
Jack  Simpson  will  be  its  manager  1 " 

The  story  of  the  escape  from  death  had  already 
been  told  briefly  by  the  miners  as  they  came  to  the 
surface,  and  had  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth 
among  the  crowd,  and  Mr.  Hardinge's  announce- 
ment was  greeted  with  a  storm  of  enthusiasm. 
Jack  was  seized  by  a  score  of  sturdy  pitmen,  and 


28a  FACING  DEA  Tff. 

would  have  been  carried  in  triumph,  were  it  not 
that  the  startling  announcement,  coming  after  such 
a  long  and  intense  strain,  proved  too  much  for  him, 
and  he  fainted  in  the  arms  of  his  admirers. 


CHANGES. 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

CHANGES. 

BEYOND  the  body  of  the  crowd,  outside  the  ring 
kept  by  the  police,  stood  Nelly  Hardy,  watching, 
without  a  vestige  of  color  in  her  face,  for  the  news 
from  below.  She  had  given  a  gasping  sigh  of  relief 
as  the  names,  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  by  the 
crowd,  met  her  ear,  and  had  leaned  for  support 
against  the  wall  behind  her.  So  great  was  her  faith 
in  Jack's  resources  and  in  Jack's  destiny  that  she 
had  all  along  hoped,  and  the  assertion  that  those 
who  had  first  gone  down  to  rescue  the  pitmen  must 
have  fallen  victims  to  the  second  explosion  had  fallen 
dead  upon  her  ears. 

The  school  had  been  closed  from  the  date  of  the 
accident,  and  had  it  not  been  so,  she  felt  that  she 
could  not  have  performed  her  duties.  Hour  after 
hour  she  had  sat  in  her  cottage  alone — for  her 
mother  had  died  a  year  before — except  when  Mrs. 
Dodgson,  who  had  long  suspected  her  secret,  came 
to  sit  awhile  with  her,  or  Harry  brought  the  latest 
news.  During  this  time  she  had  not  shed  a  tear, 
and,  save  for  her  white  face  and  hard,  unnatural 


384  FACING 

voice,  none  could  have  told  how  she  suffered.  Harry 
had  brought  her  the  news  of  the  smoke  being  seen 
from  the  shaft  of  the  Logan  pit  before  he  carried  it 
to  Mrs.  Haden,  and  she  had  at  once  thrown  on  her 
bonnet  and  jacket  and  joined  them  as  they  started 
from  the  village.  When  she  reached  the  pit  she 
had  not  attempted  to  approach,  but  had  taken  her 
place  at  a  distance.  Several  of  her  pupils,  with 
whom  she  was  a  great  favorite,  had  come  up  to 
speak  to  her,  but  her  hoarse,  "  Not  now,  dear ; 
please  go  away,"  had  sufficed  to  send  them  off. 
But  deeply  agitated  as  she  was,  she  was  hopeful ; 
and  deep  as  was  her  joy  at  the  news  of  Jack's  safety 
she  was  hardly  surprised.  Dropping  her  veil  to  hide 
the  tears  of  joy  which  streamed  down  her  cheeks, 
she  turned  to  go  home  ;  but  she  was  more  shaken 
than  she  had  thought,  and  had  to  grasp  at  the 
wall  for  support. 

So  she  waited  until  the  last  of  the  miners  arrived 
at  the  surface,  and  heard  the  speech  of  the  govern- 
ment inspector.  Then  when  she  heard  Jack's  eleva- 
tion announced,  the  news  shook  her  even  more  than 
that  of  his  safety  had  done,  and  she  fainted.  When 
she  recovered  the  crowd  was  gone,  and  Harry  only 
stood  beside  her.  He  had  felt  that  she  would  rather 
Stand  and  watch  alone,  and  had  avoided  going  near 
her,  but  when  Jack  was  driven  off  he  had  hastened 
to  her  side.  He  knew  how  she  would  object  to  her 
emotion  becoming  known,  and  had  contented  him- 


CHANGES.  285 

self  with  lifting  her  veil,  untying  her  bonnet  strings, 
putting  her  in  a  sitting  attitude  against  the  wall,  and 
waiting  patiently  till  she  came  round. 

"Are  you  better  now?"  he  inquired  anxiously 
when  she  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  am  well  now,"  she  said,  glancing  hastily 
round  to  see  if  others  beside  himself  had  noticed  her 
situation  ;  "  I  am  quite  well." 

"  Don't  try  to  get  up :  sit  still  a  few  minutes 
longer,"  he  said.  "  Don't  try  to  talk." 

"  He  has  got  his  rise  at  last,"  she  said,  smiling 
faintly  and  looking  up;  "he  has  gone  right  away 
from  us  at  a  bound." 

"  I  am  glad,"  Harry  said  simply.  "  He  has  earned 
it.  He  is  a  grand,  a  glorious  fellow,  is  Jack.  Of 
course  I  shall  never  be  to  him  now  what  I  have 
been,  but  I  know  that  he  will  be  as  true  as  ever, 
though  1  may  not  see  so  much  of  him." 

"  You  are  more  unselfish  than  I,  Harry ;  but  as  he 
was  to  rise,  it  was  better  that  it  should  be  at  a 
bound  far  above  me.  Now  I  am  better ;  let  me  go 
home." 

Jack  Simpson's  fainting  fit  had  been  but  of  short 
duration.  His  sturdy  organization  soon  recovered 
from  the  shock  which  the  fresh  air  and  Mr.  Har- 
dinge's  announcement  had  made  upon  a  frame  ex- 
hausted by  privation,  fatigue,  and  excitement. 
None  the  less  was  he  astonished  and  indignant  with 
himself  at  what  he  considered  a  girlish  weakness 


286  FACING  DEATH. 

His  thoughts  were,  however,  speedily  diverted  from 
himself  by  a  pitman  telling  him  that  Jane  Haden 
was  in  a  second  faint  close  by.  Mi.  Brook's  car- 
riage had  been  sent  for  in  readiness,  immediately 
the  possibility  of  his  being  found  alive  had  appeared, 
and  that  gentleman  insisted  upon  Mrs.  Haden  being 
lifted  into  it,  and  upon  Jack  taking  his  seat  beside 
her  to  support  her.  He  then  followed,  and  amid  the 
cheers  of  the  crowd  they  started  for  Stokebridge. 

Mrs.  Haden  recovered  before  reaching  the  vil- 
lage ;  and  leaving  her  and  Jack  at  their  home, 
with  an  intimation  that  the  carriage  would  come  at 
an  early  hour  next  morning  to  fetch  the  latter  up  to 
the  hall,  Mr.  Brook  drove  off  alone. 

That  afternoon  was  a  proud  day  for  Bill  Haden 
and  his  wife,  but  a  trying  one  for  Jack. 

Every  one  in  the  place  who  had  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  him  called  to  shake  his  hand  and  con- 
gratulate him  on  his  promotion,  his  friends  of  boy- 
hood first  among  them.  Harry  was  one  of  the 
earliest  comers,  and  tears  fell  down  the  cheeks  of 
both  as  they  clasped  hands  in  silent  joy  at  their  re- 
union. Not  a  word  was  spoken  or  needed. 

"  Go  round  to  Nelly,"  Jack  said  in  an  undertone 
as  other  visitors  arrived  ;  "  tell  her  I  will  come  in 
and  see  her  at  seven  o'clock.  Come  again  yourself 
before  that,  let  us  three  meet  together  again." 

So  quickly  did  the  callers  press  in  that  the  little 
loom  could  not  hold  them  ;  and -Jack  had  to  go  to 


CffAtfGSS.  287 

the  front  door,  there  to  shake  hands  and  say  a  word 
to  all  who  wanted  to  see  him.  It  was  quite  a  leve'e, 
and  it  was  only  the  fact  that  the  gloom  of  a  terrible 
calamity  hung  over  Stokebridge  that  prevented  the 
demonstration  being  noisy  as  well  as  enthusiastic. 

By  six  o'clock  all  his  friends  had  seen  him,  and 
Jack  sat  down  with  Bill  Haden  and  his  wife.  Then 
Jane  Haden's  feelings  relieved  themselves  by  a 
copious  flood  of  tears  ;  and  Bill  himself,  though  he 
reproached  her  for  crying  on  such  an  occasion,  did 
so  in  a  husky  voice. 

"  Thou  art  going  to  leave  us,  Jack,"  Jane  Haden 
said  ;  "  and  though  we  shall  miss  thee  sorely,  thou 
mustn't  go  to  think  that  Bill  or  me  be  sorry  at  the 
good  fortune  that  be  come  upon  you.  Thou  hast 
been  a  son,  and  a  good  son  to  us,  and  ha*  never 
given  so  much  as  a  day's  trouble.  I  know'd  as  how 
you'd  leave  us  sooner  or  later.  There  was  sure  to 
be  a  time  when  all  the  laming  thou  hast  worked  so 
hard  to  get  would  bring  thee  to  fortune,  but  I  didn't 
think  'twould  come  so  soon." 

Bill  Haden  removed  from  his  lips  the  pipe — 
which,  in  his  endeavor  to  make  up  for  loss  of  time, 
he  had  smoked  without  ceasing  from  the  moment  of 
his  rescue — and  grunted  an  acquiescence  with  his 
wife's  speech. 

"  My  dear  mother  and  dad,"  Jack  said,  "  there 
must  be  no  talk  of  parting  between  us.  As  yet,  of 
course,  it  is  too  soon  to  form  plans  for  the  future  ; 


a&8  PACING 

but  be  assured  that  there  will  be  no  parting.  Yo«. 
took  me  when  I  was  a  helpless  baby  ;  but  for  you 
I  should  have  been  a  workhouse  child,  and  might 
now  be  coming  out  of  my  apprenticeship  to  a  tinker 
or  a  tailor.  I  owe  all  I  have,  all  I  arn,  to  you  ;  and 
whatever  fortune  befall  me  you  will  still  be  dad  and 
mother.  For  a  short  time  I  must  go  to  the  hall,  as 
Mr.  Brook  has  invited  me ;  and  we  shall  have  much  to 
arrange  and  talk  over.  Afterward  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  go  to  the  manager's  house,  but,  of  course, 
arrangements  will  have  to  be  made  as  to  Mr. 
Fletcher's  widow  and  children  ;  and  when  I  go 
there,  of  course  you  will  come  too." 

"  Thee'st  a  good  un,  lad,"  Bill  Haden  said,  for 
Mrs.  Haden's  tears  prevented  her  speech  ;  "  but  I 
doubt  what  thou  say'st  can  be  ;  but  we  needn't 
talk  that  over  now.  But  t'  old  'ooman  and  I  be 
none  the  less  glad  o'  thy  words,  Jack  ;  though  the 
bit  and  sup  that  thou  had'st  here  till  you  went  into 
th'  pit  and  began  to  pay  your  way  ain't  worth  the 
speaking  o'.  Thou  beats  me  a'together,  Jack. 
When  un  sees  a  good  pup  un  looks  to  his  breed, 
and  un  finds  it  pure ;  but  where  thou  get'st  thy 
points  from  beats  me  a'together.  Thy  mother 
were  a  schoolmaster's  daughter,  but  she  had  not 
the  name  o'  being  fond  o'  laming,  and  was  a'ways 
weak  and  ailing  ;  thy  dad,  my  mate,  Jack  Simpson 
was  as  true  a  mate  as  ever  man  had  ;  but  he  were 
in  no  ways  uncommon-  The  old  'ooman  and  I  ha' 


CHANGES.  289 

.<:ared  ye  ;  bat,  arter  all,  pups  don't  follow  their 
foster-mother,  for  the  best  bull  pup  ain't  no  ways  in- 
jured by  having  a  half-bred  un,  or  for  the  matter  o' 
that  one  wi'  no  breed  at  all,  as  a  foster-mother  ;  be- 
sides the  old  'ooman  and  me  has  no  points  at  all 
'cept  on  my  part,  such  as  are  bad  uns ;  so  it  beats 
me  fairly.  It  downright  shakes  un's  faith  ic  breed- 
ing." 

Here  Harry's  tap  was  heard  at  the  doer,  and 
Jack,  leaving  Bill  Haden  to  ponder  over  hi»  egre- 
gious failure  in  proving  true  to  blood,  joined  his 
friend  outside. 

Scarce  a  word  was  spoken  between  the  two  young 
men  as  they  walked  across  to  Nelly  Hardy's  little 
cottage  by  the  schoolhouse.  The  candles  were  al- 
ready lighted,  and  Nelly  rose  as  they  entered. 

"  My  dear  Nelly." 

"  My  dear  Jack,"  she  said,  throwing  her  arm* 
round  his  neck  as  a  sister  might  have  done,  anf 
kissing  him,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  ;  and  cry- 
ing, "  My  dear  Jack,  thank'  God  you  are  restored 
alive  to  us." 

"  Thank  God  indeed,"  Jack  said  reverently ;  "  it 
has  been  almost  a  miracle,  Nelly,  and  I  am 
indeed  thankful.  We  prayed  nearly  as  hard  as  we 
worked,  and  God  was  with  us ;  otherwise  assuredly 
we  had  never  passed  through  such  danger  unin- 
jured. I  thought  many  a  time  of  you  and  Harry, 
and  what  you  would  be  doing  and  thinking." 
'9 


ago 

"  I  never  gave  up  hope,  clid  I,  Harry  ?  "  she  said  \ 
"I  thought  that  somehow  such  a  useful  life  as  yours 
would  be  spared." 

"  Many  other  useful  lives  have  been  lost,  Nelly," 
Jack  said  sadly  ;  "  but  it  was  not  my  time." 

"And  now,"  Nelly  said,  changing  her  tone, 
"  there  are  other  things  to  talk  of.  Will  you  please 
take  a  chair,  sir,"  and  she  dropped  a  courtesy, 
"  Didn't  I  tell  you,  Jack,"  she  said,  laughing  at  the 
astonishment  in  Jack's  face,  "  that  when  you  con- 
gratulated me  on  getting  my  post  here  and  called 
me  Miss  Hardy,  that  the  time  would  come  when  I 
should  say  Sir  to  you.  It  has  come,  Jack,  sooner 
than  we  expected,  but  I  knew  it  would  come." 

Then  changing  her  tone  again,  as  they  sat  look- 
ing at  the  fire,  she  went  on,  "  You  know  we  are 
glad,  Jack,  Harry  and  I,  more  glad  than  we  can 
say  ;  that  needs  no  telling  between  us,  does  it  ?  " 

"  None,"  Jack  said.  "  We  are  one,  we  three,  and 
no  need  to  say  we  are  glad  at  each  other's  suc- 
cess." 

"  We  have  had  happy  days,"  Nelly  said,  "  but 
they  will  never  be  quite  the  same  again.  We  shall 
always  be  friends,  Jack,  always — true  and  dear 
friends,  but  we  cannot  be  all  in  all  to  each  other. 
I  know,  dear  Jack,"  she  said  as  she  saw  he  was 
about  to  speak  vehemently,  "  that  you  will  be  as 
much  our  friend  in  one  way  as  ever,  but  you  can- 
not be  our  companion.  It  is  impossible,  Jack. 


CHANGES.  391 

We  have  trod  the  same  path  together,  but  your  path 
leaves  ours  here.  We  shall  be  within  sound  of 
each  other's  voices,  we  shall  never  lose  sight  of 
each  other,  but  we  are  no  longer  together." 

"  I  have  not  thought  it  over  yet,"  Jack  said 
quietly.  "  It  is  all  too  new  and  too  strange  to  me 
to  see  yet  how  things  will  work.;  but  it  is  true, 
Nelly,  and  it  is  the  one  drawback  to  my  good  for- 
tune, that  there  must  be  some  little  change  between 
us.  But  in  the  friendship  which  began  when  you 
stood  by  me  at  the  old  shaft  and  helped  me  to  save 
Harry,  there  will  be  no  change.  I  have  risen  as  I 
always  had  determined  to  rise ;  I  have  worked  for 
this  from  the  day  when  Mr.  Pastor,  my  artist 
friend,  told  me  it  was  possible  I  might  reach  it, 
but  I  never  dreamed  it  would  come  so  soon  ;  and 
I  have  always  hoped  and  thought  that  I  should 
keep  you  both  with  me.  How  things  will  turn  out 
we  do  not  know,  but,  dear  friends,"  and  he  held 
out  his  hand  to  each,  "believe  me,  that  I  shall 
always  be  as  I  am  now,  and  that  I  shall  care 
little  for  my  good  fortune  unless  I  can  retain  you 
both  as  my  dearest  friends," 


291    "  FACING  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    NEW    MANAGER. 

THE  next  day  preparations  for  pumping  out  the 
Vaughan  commenced  ;  but  it  took  weeks  to  get  rid 
of  the  water  which  had  flowed  in  in  five  minutes. 
Then  the  work  of  clearing  the  mine  and  bringing 
up  the  bodies  commenced. 

This  was  a  sad  business.  A  number  of  coffins, 
equal  to  that  of  the  men  known  to  be  below  at  the 
time  of  the  explosion,  were  in  readiness  in  a  shed 
near  the  pit  mouth.  These  were  sent  down,  and 
the  bodies  as  they  were  found  were  placed  in  them 
to  be  carried  above.  In  scarcely  any  instances 
could  the  dead  be  identified  by  the  relatives,  six 
weeks  in  the  water  having  changed  them  beyond  all 
recognition  ;  only  by  the  clothes  could  a  clue  be 
obtained.  Then  the  funerals  began.  A  great  grave 
a  hundred  feet  long  by  twelve  wide  had  been  dug 
in  the  churchyard,  and  in  this  the  coffins  were  laid 
two  deep. 

Some  days  ten,  some  fifteen,  some  twenty  bodies 
Were  laid  there,  and  at  each  funeral  the  whole  vil- 


THE  NEW  MANAGER.  093 

lage  attended.  Who  could  know  whether  those 
dearest  to  them  were  not  among  the  shapeless  forms 
each  day  consigned  to  their  last  resting-place  ? 

At  last  the  tale  was  complete ;  the  last  of  the 
victims  of  the  great  explosion  at  the  Vaughan  was 
laid  to  rest,  the  blinds  were  drawn  up,  and  save  that 
the  whole  of  the  people  seemed  to  be  in  mourning, 
Stokebridge  assumed  its  usual  aspect. 

Upon  the  day  before  the  renewal  of  regular  work, 
Jack  Simpson,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Brook,  appeared 
upon  the  ground,  and  signified  that  none  were  to 
descend  until  he  had  spoken  to  them.  He  had  al- 
ready won  their  respect  by  his  indefatigable  atten- 
tion to  the  work  of  clearing  the  mine,  and  by  the 
care  he  had  evinced  for  the  recovery  of  the  bodies. 
Few,  however,  of  the  hands  had  spoken  to  him 
since  his  accession  to  his  new  dignity ;  now  they 
had  time  to  observe  him,  and  all  wondered  at  the 
change  which  had  been  wrought  in  his  appearance. 
Clothes  do  not  make  a  man,  but  they  greatly  alter 
his  appearance,  and  there  was  not  one  but  felt  that 
Jack  looked  every  inch  a  gentleman.  When  he 
began  to  speak  their  wonder  increased.  Except  to 
Mr.  Dodgson,  Harry,  Nelly  Hardy,  and  some  of 
his  young  comrades,  Jack  had  always  spoken  in 
the  dialect  of  the  place,  and  the  surprise  of  the 
colliers  when  he  spoke  in  perfect  English  without 
a  trace  of  accent  or  dialect  was  great  indeed. 
Standing  up  in  the  gig  in  which  he  had  driven 


294  PACING  DEATH. 

up  with  Mr.  Brook  he  spoke  in  a  loud,  clear  voice, 
heard  easily  throughout  the  yard. 

"  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  my  position  here  is  a 
new  and  difficult  one,  so  difficult  that  did  I  not  feel 
sure  that  you  would  help  me  to  make  it  as  easy  as 
possible  I  should  shrink  from  undertaking  it.  I  am 
a  very  young  man.  I  have  grown  up  among  you, 
and  of  you,  and  now  in  a  strange  way,  due  in  a 
great  measure  to  the  kindness  of  your  employers, 
and  in  a  small  degree  to  my  own  exertions  to  im- 
prove myself,  I  have  come  to  be  put  over  you. 
Now  it  is  only  by  your  helping  me  that  I  can  main- 
tain this  position  here.  You  will  find  in  me  a  true 
friend.  I  know  your  difficulties  and  your  wants, 
and  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  render  your  lives 
comfortable.  Those  among  you  who  were  my 
friends  from  boyhood  can  believe  this ;  the  rest  of 
you  will  find  it  to  be  so.  Any  of  you  who  are  in 
trouble  or  in  difficulty  will,  if  you  come  to  me,  ob- 
tain advice  and  assistance.  But  while  I  will  try  to 
be  your  friend,  and  will  do  all  in  my  power  for 
your  welfare,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  you 
should  treat  me  with  the  respect  due  to  Mr.  Brook's 
manager.  Without  proper  discipline  proper  work 
is  impossible.  A  captain  must  be  captain  of  his 
own  ship,  though  many  of  his  men  know  the  work 
as  well  as  he  does.  And  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to 
tell  you  that  Mr.  Brook  has  given  me  full  power  to 
make  such  regulations  and  to  carry  out  such  in> 


THE  NEW  MANAGER.  295 

provements  as  may  be  conducive  to  your  comfort 
and  welfare.  He  wants,  and  I  want,  the  Vaughan 
to  be  a  model  mine  and  Stokebridge  a  model  vil- 
lage, and  we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  carry  out 
our  wishes.  We  hope  that  no  dispute  will  ever  again 
arise  here  on  the  question  of  wages.  There  was  one 
occasion  when  the  miners  of  the  Vaughan  were  led 
away  by  strangers  and  paid  dearly  for  it.  We  hope 
that  such  a  thing  will  never  occur  again.  Mr.  Brook 
expects  a  fair  return,  and  no  more  than  a  fair  re- 
turn, for  the  capital  he  has  sunk  in  the  mine. 
When  times  are  good  you  will  share  his  prosperity ; 
when  times  are  bad  you,  like  he,  must  submit  to 
sacrifices.  If  disputes  arise  elsewhere,  they  need 
not  affect  us  here,  for  you  may  be  sure  that  your 
wages  will  never  be  below  those  paid  elsewhere. 
And  now  I  have  said  my  say.  Let  us  conclude  by 
trusting  that  we  shall  be  as  warm  friends  as  ever, 
although  our  relations  toward  each  other  are  neces- 
sarily changed." 

Three  rousing  cheers  greeted  the  conclusion  of 
Jack's  speech,  after  which  he  drove  off  with  Mr. 
Brook.  As  the  men  gathered  round  the  top  of  the 
shaft,  an  old  miner  exclaimed :  "  Dang  it  all,  I  ha' 
it  now.  I  was  wondering  all  the  time  he  was  speak- 
ing where  I  had  heard  his  voice  before,  I  know 
now.  As  sure  as  I'm  a  living  man  it  was  Jack 
Simpson  as  beat  us  back  from  that  there  engine-house 
when  we  were  going  to  stop  the  pumps  in  the  strike." 


296  FACING  DkATH. 

Now  that  the  clue  was  given,  a  dozen  others  or 
those  who  had  been  present  agreed  with  the  speaker. 
The  event  was  now  an  old  one,  and  all  bitterness 
had  passed.  Had  it  been  known  at  the  time,  or 
within  a  few  months  afterward,  Jack's  life  would 
probably  have  paid  the  penalty ;  but  now  the  pre- 
dominant feeling  was  one  of  admiration.  Those 
who  had,  during  the  last  few  weeks,  wearily  watched 
the  pumping  out  of  the  Vaughan,  felt  how  fatal 
would  have  been  the  delay  had  it  occurred  when 
the  strike  ended  and  they  were  penniless  and  with- 
out resources,  and  no  feeling  of  ill-will  remained. 

"  He  be  a  game  'un  ;  to  think  o'  that  boy  stand- 
ing alone  agin'  us  a,'  and  not  a  soul  as  much  as 
suspected  it !  Did'st  know  o't,  Bill  Haden  ?  " 

"  Noa,"  Bill  said,  "  never  so  much  as  dreamt  o't, 
but  now  I  thinks  it  over,  it  be  loikely  enoo'.  I 
often  thought  what  wonderful  luck  it  were  as  he 
gave  me  that  'ere  bottle  o'  old  Tom,  and  made  me 
as  drunk  as  a  loord  joost  at  th'  roight  time,  and  I 
ha'  thought  it  were  curious  too,  seeing  as  never 
before  or  since  has  he  giv'd  me  a  bottle  o'  liquor, 
but  now  it  all  comes  natural  enough.  Well,  to  be 
sure,  and  to  think  that  lad  should  ha'  done  all  that 
by  hisself,  and  ne'er  a  soul  the  wiser  1  You  may  be 
sure  the  gaffer  didn't  know  no  more  than  we,  or 
he'd  a  done  summat  for  the  lad  at  the  time.  He 
offered  rewards,  too,  for  the  finding  out  who  t*  were 
as  had  done  it,  and  to  think  'twas  my  Jack  I  Well, 


THE  NE  W  MAMA  GEk.  *§) 

well,  he  be  a  good  plucked  un,  too ;  they  didn't  ca' 
him  Bull-dog  for  nowt,  for  it  would  ha'  gone  hard 
wi'  him  had't  been  found  out.  I'm  main  proud  o' 
that  lad." 

And  so  the  discovery  that  Jack  had  so  wished  to 
avoid,  when  it  was  at  last  made,  added  much  to  the 
respect  with  which  he  was  held  in  the  Vaughan  pit. 
If  when  a  boy  he  would  dare  to  carry  out  such  a 
scheme  as  this,  it  was  clear  that  as  a  man  he  was 
not  to  be  trifled  with.  The  reputation  which  he 
had  gained  by  his  courage  in  descending  into  the 
mine,  in  his  battle  with  Tom  Walker,  and  by  the 
clear-headedness  and  quickness  of  decision  which 
had  saved  the  lives  of  the  survivors  of  the  explosion, 
was  immensely  increased  ;  and  any  who  had  before 
felt  sore  at  the  thought  of  so  young  a  hand  being 
placed  above  them  in  command  of  the  pit,  felt  that 
in  all  that  constitutes  a  man,  in  energy,  courage,  and 
ability,  Jack  Simpson  was  worthy  the  post  of  man- 
ager of  the  Vaughan  mine. 

Bill  Haden  was  astonished  upon  his  return  home 
that  night  to  find  that  his  wife  had  all  along  known 
that  it  was  Jack  who  had  defended  the  Vaughan, 
and  was  inclined  to  feel  greatly  aggrieved  at  having 
been  kept  in  the  dark. 

"  Did  ye  think  as  I  wasn't  to  be  trusted  not  to 
split  on  my  own  lad  ?  "  he  exclaimed  indignantly. 

"We  knew  well  enough  that  thou  mightest  be 
trusted  when  thou  wer't  sober,  Bill,"  his  wife  said 


gently ;  "  but  as  about  four  nights  a  week  at  that 
time  thou  wast  drunk,  and  might  ha'  blabbed  it  out, 
and  had  known  nowt  in  the  morning  o'  what 
thou'dst  said,  Jack  and  I  were  of  a  mind  that  less 
said  soonest  mended."  » 

"  Maybe  you  were  right,"  Bill  Haden  said,  after  a 
pause ;  "  a  man  has  got  a  loose  tongue  when  he's  in 
drink,  and  I  should  never  ha'  forgiven  myself  had 
I  harmed  t'  lad." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

RISEN. 

IT  was  not  until  the  pit  was  cleared  of  water  and 
about  to  go  to  work  again  that  the  question  of  Bill 
Haden  and  his  wife  removing  from  their  cottage 
came  forward  for  decision.  Jack  had  been  staying 
with  Mr.  Brook,  who  had  ordered  that  the  house  in 
which  the  late  manager  had  lived  should  be  put  in 
good  order  and  furnished  from  top  to  bottom,  and 
hid  arranged  for  his  widow  and  children  to  remove 
at  once  to  friends  living  at  a  distance.  Feeling  as 
he  did  that  he  owed  his  life  to  the  young  man  he 
was  eager  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  promote 
his  comfort  and  prosperity,  and  as  he  was,  apart 
from  the  colliery,  a  wealthy  man  and  a  bachelor,  he 
did  not  care  to  what  expense  he  went. 

The  house,  "  the  great  house  on  the  hill,"  as  Jack 
had  described  it  when  speaking  to  his  artist  friend 
Pastor  years  before,  was  a  far  larger  and  more  im- 
portant building  than  the  houses  of  managers  of 
mines  in  general.  It  had,  indeed,  been  originally 
the  residence  of  a  family  owning  a  good  deal  of 
land  in  the  neighborhood,  but  they,  when  coal  was 


300  FACING  DEATH. 

discovered  and  work  began,  sold  this  property  and 
went  to  live  in  London,  and  as  none  cared  to  take 
a  house  so  close  to  the  coal  -pits  and  village  of 
Stokebridge,  it  was  sold  for  a  nominal  sum  to  the 
owner  of  the  Vaughan,  and  was  by  him  used  as  a 
residence  for  his  manager. 

Now,  with  the  garden  nicely  laid  out,  redecorated 
and  repaired  outside  and  in,  and  handsomely  fur- 
nished, it  resumed  its  former  appearance  of  a  gentle 
man's  country  seat.  Mr.  Brook  begged  Jack  as  a 
favor  not  to  go  near  the  house  until  the  place  was 
put  in  order,  and  although  the  young  man  heard 
that  a  Birmingham  contractor  had  taken  it  in  hand, 
and  that  a  large  number  of  men  were  at  work  there, 
he  had  no  idea  of  the  extensive  changes  which  were 
taking  place. 

A  few  days  before  work  began  again  at  the 
Vaughan  Jack  went  down  as  usual  to  the  Hadens' 
for  he  had  looked  in  every  day  to  say  a  few  words 
to  them  on  his  way  back  from  the  pit-mouth. 
"  Now,  dad,"  he  said,  "  we  must  not  put  the  matter 
off  any  longer.  I  am  to  go  into  the  manager's 
house  in  a  fortnight's  time.  I  heai  they  have  been 
painting  and  cleaning  it  up,  and  Mr.  Brook  tells 
me  he  has  put  new  furniture  in,  and  that  I  shall 
pnly  have  to  go  in  and  hang  up  my  hat.  Now  I 
want  for  you  to  arrange  to  come  up  on  the  same 


1*  We  ha'  been  talking  the  matter  over  in  every 


301 

mortai  way,  the  old  woman  and  me,  Jack,  and  lU 
tell  'ee  what  we've  aboot  concluded.  On  one  side 
thou  really  want  t'  have  us  oop  wi'  'ee." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  dad,"  Jack  said  earnestly, 

"  I  know  thou  dost,  lad ;  me  and  Jane  both  feels 
that  Well,  that's  an  argiment  that  way.  Then 
there's  the  argiment  that  naturally  thou  would'st 
not  like  the  man  who  hast  brought  thee  oop  to  be 
working  in  the  pit  o'  which  thou  wast  manager. 
That's  two  reasons  that  way ;  on  the  other  side 
there  be  two,  and  the  old  'ooman  and  me  think  they 
are  strongers  than  t'others.  First,  we  should  be 
out  o'  place  at  the  house  oop  there.  Thou  wilt  be 
getting  to  know  all  kinds  o'  people,  and  whatever 
thou  may'st  say,  Jack,  your  mother  and  me  would 
be  oot  o'  place.  That's  one  argiment  The  next 
argiment  is  that  we  shouldn't  like  it,  Jack ;  we  should 
feel  we  were  out  o'  place,  and  that  our  ways  were 
out  o'  place,  and  we  should  be  joost  miserable.  In- 
stead o'  doing  us  a  kindness  you'd  joost  make  our 
lives  a  burden,  and  I  know  'ee  don't  want  to  do  that 
We's  getting  on  in  loife  and  be  too  old  to  change  our 
ways,  and  nothing  thou  could'st  say  could  persuade 
us  to  live  a'ways  dressed  up  in  our  Sunday  clothes 
in  your  house." 

"  Well,  dad,  I  might  put  you  both  in  a  comfort- 
able cottage,  without  work  to  do." 

"  What  should  I  do  wi'out  my  work,  Jack  ?  noa,  lad, 
1  must  work  as  long  as  I  can,  or  I  should  die  o'  pure 


302  FACING 

idleness.  But  I  needn't  work  at  a  stall.  I'm  fifty 
now,  and  although  I  ha'  got  another  fifteen  years' 
work  in  me,  I  hope,  my  bones  bean't  as  liss  as  they 
was.  Thou  might  give  me  the  job  as  underground 
viewer.  I  can  put  in  a  prop  or  see  to  the  firing  o1 
a  shot  wi'  any  man.  Oi've  told  my  mates  you  want 
to  have  me  and  the  old  woman  oop  at  th'  house, 
and  they'll  know  that  if  I  stop  underground  it  be  o' 
my  own  choice.  I  know,  lad,  it  wouldn't  be  roight 
for  me  to  be  a  getting  droonk  at  the  *  Chequers ' 
and  thou  manager ;  but  I  ha'  told  t'  old  'ooman 
that  I  will  swear  off  liquor  altogether." 

"  No,  no,  dad  I  "  Jack  said,  affected  at  this  proof 
of  Bill  Haden's  desire  to  do  what  he  could  toward 
maintaining  his  dignity.  "  I  wouldn't  think  o't. 
If  you  and  mother  feel  that  you'd  be  more  happy 
and  comfortable  here — and  maybe  you  are  right,  I 
didn't  think  over  the  matter  from  thy  side  as  well 
as  my  own,  as  I  ought  to  have  done — of  course  you 
shall  stay  here;  and  of  course,  you  shall  have  a 
berth  as  under-viewer.  As  for  swearing  off  drink 
altogether,  I  wouldn't  ask  it  of  you,  though  I  do 
wish  you  could  resolve  never  to  drink  too  much 
again.  You  ha'  been  used  to  go  to  the  '  Chequers' 
every  night  for  nigh  forty  years,  and  you  couldn't 
give  it  up  now.  You  would  pine  away  without 
somewhere  to  go  to.  However,  this  must  be  under- 
stood, whenever  you  like  to  come  up  to  me  I  shall 
be  glad  to  see  you,  and  I  shall  expect  you  on  Sun- 


303 

days  to  dinner  if  on  no  other  day ;  and  whenever 
the  time  shall  come  when  you  feel,  dad,  that  you'd 
rather  give  up  work,  there  will  be  a  cottage  for  you 
and  mother  somewhere  handy  to  me,  and  enough 
to  live  comfortably  and  free  from  care." 

"  That's  a  bargain,  lad,  and  I'm  roight  glad  ;t  be 
off  my  mind,  for  I  ha'  been  bothering  over  't  ever 
since  thee  spoke  to  me  last." 

The  same  evening  Jack  had  a  long  talk  with 
Harry.  His  friend,  although  healthy,  was  by  no 
means  physically  strong,  and  found  the  work  of  a 
miner  almost  beyond  him.  He  had  never  taken  to 
the  life  as  Jack  had  done,  and  his  friend  knew  that 
for  the  last  year  or  two  he  had  been  turning  his 
thoughts  in  other  directions,  and  that  of  all  things 
he  would  like  to  be  a  schoolmaster.  He  had  for 
years  read  and  studied  a  good  deal,  and  Mr.  Dodg- 
son  said  that  with  a  year  in  a  training  college  ha 
would  be  able  to  pass.  He  had  often  talked  the 
matter  over  with  Jack,  and  the  latter  told  him  now 
that  he  had  entered  his  name  in  St.  Mark's  College, 
Chelsea,  had  paid  his  fees  six  months  in  advance, 
his  savings  amply  sufficing  for  this  without  drawing 
upon  his  salary,  and  that  he  was  to  present  himself 
there  in  a  week's  time. 

The  announcement  took  away  Harry's  breath, 
but  as  soon  as  he  recovered  himself  he  accepted 
Jack's  offer  as  frankly  as  it  was  made.  It  had 
always  been  natural  for  Jack  to  lend  him  a  hand, 


304  FACING  DEATH, 

and  it  seemed  to  him,  as  to  Jack,  natural  that  vc 
should  be  so  now. 

"  Have  you  told  Nelly  ?  " 

"  No,  I  left  it  for  you  to  tell,  Harry.  I  know,  of 
course,  one  reason  why  you  want  to  be  a  school- 
master, and  she  will  know  it  too.  She  is  a  strange 
girl,  is  Nelly  ;  I  never  did  quite  understand  her,  and 
I  never  shall ;  why  on  earth  she  should  refuse  you 
I  can't  make  out.  She's  had  lots  o'  other  offers 
these  last  four  years,  but  it's  all  the  same.  There's 
no  one  she  cares  for,  why  shouldn't  she  take  you  ?  " 

"I  can'  wait,"  Harry  said  quietly,  "  there's  plenty 
of  time ;  perhaps  some  day  I  shall  win  her,  and  I 
think — yes,  I  think  now — that  I  shall." 

"  Well,"  Jack  said  cheerfully,  "  as  you  say,  there's 
plenty  of  time ;  I've  always  said  thirty  was  the  right 
age  to  marry,  and  you  want  eight  years  of  that,  and 
Nelly  won't  get  old  faster  than  you  do,  so  if  she 
don't  fall  in  love  with  any  one  else  it  must  come 
right ;  she  has  stood  out  for  nearly  four  years,  and 
though  I  don't  pretend  to  know  anything  of  women, 
I  should  think  no  woman  could  go  on  saying  no  for 
twelve  years." 

Harry,  although  not  given  to  loud  mirth,  laughed 
heartily  at  Jack's  views  over  love-making,  and  the 
two  then  walked  across  to  Nelly  Hardy's  cottage. 
Jack  told  her  what  Bill  Haden  and  his  wife  had  de- 
cided, and  she  approved  their  determination.  Then 
Harry  said  what  Jack  had  arranged  for  him. 


KISEtf.  305 

Nelly  shook  her  head  as  if  in  answer  to  ner  own 
thoughts  while  Harry  was  speaking,  but  when  he 
ceased  she  congratulated  him  warmly. 

"  You  were  never  fit  for  pit-work,  Harry,  and  a 
schoolmaster's  life  will  suit  you  well.  It  is  curious 
that  Jack's  two  friends  should  both  have  taken  to 
the  same  life." 

Jack's  surprise  was  unbounded  when,  a  month 
after  the  reopening  of  the  Vaughan,  Mr.  Brook 
took  him  over  to  his  new  abode.  His  bewilder- 
ment at  the  size  and  completeness  of  the  house 
and  its  fittings  was  even  greater  than  his  pleas- 
ure. 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  alone  in  this  great  place, 
Mr.  Brook  ? "  he  asked :  "  I  shall  be  lost  here.  I 
am  indeed  deeply  grateful  to  you,  but  it  is  much 
too  big  for  me  altogether." 

"  It  is  no  bigger  now  than  it  has  always  been,'* 
Mr.  Brook  said,  "  and  you  will  never  be  lost  as  long 
as  you  have  your  study  there,"  and  he  pointed  to  a 
room  snugly  fitted  up  as  a  library  and  study.  "  You 
will  be  no  more  lonely  than  I  or  other  men  without 
wives  and  families ;  besides,  you  know  these  may 
come  some  day." 

"  Ah  I  but  that  will  be  many  years  on,"  Jack  said ; 
"  I  always  made  up  my  mind  not  to  marry  till  I 
was  thirty,  because  a  wife  prevents  you  making 
your  way." 

M  Yes ;  but  now  that  you  have  made  your  way  so 


306  FACING  DEA  Tff. 

far,  Jack,  a  wife  will  aid  rather  than  hinder  you. 
But  it  will  be  time  to  think  of  that  in  another  three 
or  four  years.  You  will  not  find  it  so  dull  as  you 
imagine,  Jack.  There  is  your  work,  which  will 
occupy  the  greater  part  of  your  day.  There  is  your 
study  for  the  evening.  You  will  speedily  know  all 
the  people  worth  knowing  round  here ;  I  have 
already  introduced  you  to  a  good -many,  and  they 
will  be  sure  to  call  as  soon  as  you  are  settled  here. 
In  the  stable,  my  dear  boy,  you  will  find  a  couple 
of  horses,  and  a  saddle,  and  a  dog-cart,  so  that  you 
will  be  able  to  take  exercise  and  call  about.  I  shall 
keep  the  horses.  I  consider  them  necessary  for  my 
manager.  My  men  will  keep  the  garden  in  order, 
and  I  think  that  you  will  find  your  salary  of  three 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year  to  begin  with  ample 
for  your  other  expenses." 

Jack  was  completely  overpowered  by  the  kind- 
ness of  his  employer,  but  the  latter  would  not  hear 
of  thanks.  "  Why,  man,  I  owe  you  my  life,"  he 
said ;  "  what  are  these  little  things  in  compari- 
son?" 

Jack  found  fewer  difficulties  than  he  had  antici- 
pated in  his  new  position.  His  speech  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  mine  added  to  the  favor  with  which  he 
was  held  for  his  conduct  at  the  time  of  the  explo- 
sion, and  further  heightened  the  respect  due  to  him 
for  his  defense  of  the  Vaughan.  As  he  went  through 
the  mine  he  had  ever  a  cheery  "  Good-morning 


307 

Bob,"  "  Good-morning,  Jack,"  for  his  old  comrades,- 
and  the  word  "  sir  "  was  now  universally  added  to 
the  answered  "  Good  morning,"  a  concession  not 
always  made  by  colliers  to  their  employers. 

The  miners  soon  felt  the  advantages  of  the  new 
manager's  energy,  backed  as  he  was  in  every  re- 
spect by  the  owner.  The  work  as  laid  down  by  the 
government  inspector  was  carried  out,  and  Mr. 
Brook  having  bought  up  for  a  small  sum  the  disused 
Logan  mine,  in  which  several  of  the  lower  seams  of 
coal  were  still  un worked,  the  opening  between  the 
pits  was  made  permanent,  and  the  Logan  shaft  be- 
came the  upcast  to  the  Vaughan,  thus  greatly 
simplifying  the  work  of  ventilation,  lessening  the 
danger  of  explosion,  and  giving  a  means  of  escape 
for  the  miners  should  such  a  catastrophe  recur  in 
spite  of  all  precautions. 

As  nearly  half  the  old  workers  at  the  pit  had  per- 
ished in  the  explosion,  an  equal  number  of  new 
hands  had  to  be  taken  on.  Jack,  sharing  the  anx- 
iety of  the  vicar  and  Mr.  Dodgson,  that  all  the  good 
work  should  not  be  checked  by  the  ingress  of  a 
fresh  population,  directed  that  all  vacancies  should 
be  filled  up  by  such  colliers  of  good  character  as 
resided  at  Stokebridge,  working  for  other  pits  in  the 
neighborhood.  As  the  Vaughan  promised  to  be  the 
most  comforable  and  well-worked  pit  in  the  country, 
these  were  only  too  glad  to  change  service,  and 
more  names  were  given  in  than  vacancies  could  be 


308  FACING  DBATfa 

found  for.  As  all  the  inhabitants  of  Stokebridge 
had  participated  in  the  benefits  of  the  night-schools 
and  classes,  and  in  the  improvements  which  had 
taken  place,  the  advance  of  the  village  suffered 
no  serious  check  from  the  catastrophe  at  the 
Vaughan. 


GQHCLUSXMt. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

CONCLUSION. 

THREE  years  more  of  progress  and  Stokebridge 
had  become  the  model  village  of  the  Black  Country. 
The  chief  employer  of  labor,  his  manager,  the 
vicar,  and  schoolmaster  all  worked  together  for  this 
end.  The  library  had  been  a  great  success,  and  it 
was  rare,  indeed,  for  a  drunken  man  to  be  seen  in 
the  streets  even  of  a  Saturday  night.  Many  of  the 
public  houses  had  closed  their  doors  altogether ; 
and  in  addition  to  the  library  a  large  and  comfort- 
able club-house  had  been  built. 

The  men  of  an  evening  could  smoke  their  pipes, 
play  at  bagatelle,  chess,  draughts,  or  cards,  and 
take  such  beer  as  they  required,  any  man  getting 
drunk  or  even  noisy  to  be  expelled  from  the  club. 
This,  however,  was  a  rule  never  requiring  to  be 
Called  into  force.  The  building  was  conducted  on 
the  principle  of  a  regimental  canteen.  The  beer 
^ras  good  and  cheap  but  not  strong,  no  spirits  were 
$qld,  but  excellent  tea,  coffee,  and  chocolate  could 
be  had  at  the  lowest  prices. 
'  The  building  was  closed  during  the  day,  but  beer 


3 1  o  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

was  sent  out  both  for  dinners  and  suppers  zv  izrza 
who  required  it.  There  was  a  comfortable  room 
where  women  could  sew,  knit,  and  talk  as  they 
pleased,  or  they  could,  if  they  liked,  sit  in  the  gen- 
eral  room  with  their  husbands.  Entertainments 
and  lectures  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  the 
establishment,  supplemented  by  the  library  and 
wash-house,  did  wonders  for  Stokebridge. 

The  promise  made  by  Mr.  Brook  at  the  fete  had 
been  carried  out.  A  choir-master  came  over  twice 
a  week  from  Birmingham,  and  the  young  people 
entered  into  the  scheme  with  such  zest  that  the 
choir  had  carried  away  the  prize  three  years  in 
succession  at  Birmingham.  The  night-school  was 
now  carried  on  on  a  larger  scale  than  ever,  and  the 
school  for  cooking  and  sewing  was  so  well  attended 
that  Mrs.  Dodgson  had  now  a  second  assistant.  To 
encourage  the  children  and  young  people  an  annual 
show  was  held  at  which  many  prizes  were  given  for 
gardening,  needlework,  dressmaking,  carpentering, 
and  a  variety  of  other  subjects.  It  was  seldom,  in- 
deed, that  an  untidy  dress  was  to  be  seen,  still  more 
uncommon  that  a  foul  word  was  heard  in  the  streets 
of  Stokebridge.  Nothing  could  make  the  rows,  oi 
cottages  picturesque  as  are  those  of  a  rural  village ; 
but  from  tubs,  placed  in  front,  creepers  and  roses 
climbed  over  the  houses,  while  the  gardens  behind 
were  gay  with  flowers. 

No  young  woman  needed  to  remain  single  in 


COXCLVStOfr.  311 

Strokebridge  longer  than  she  chose,  for  so  note- 
worthy  were  they  for  their  housewifely  qualities  that 
the  young  pitmen  of  the  villages  round  thought 
themselves  fortunate  indeed  if  they  could  get  a 
wife  from  Stokebridge.  Bill  Cummings,  Fred 
Wood,  and  several  others  of  Jack's  boy  friends, 
ttere  viewers  or  under-managers  of  the  Vaughan, 
and  many  had  left  to  take  similar  situations  else- 
where. 

Jack  Simpson  was  popular  with  all  classes.  With 
the  upper  class  his  simple  straightforwardness,  his 
cheerfulness  and  good  temper,  made  him  a  great 
favorite,  although  they  found  it  hard  to  understand 
how  so  quiet  and  unassuming  a  young  fellow  could 
be  the  hero  of  the  two  rescues  at  the  Vaughan,  for, 
now  when  the  fact  was  known,  Jack  no  longer  made 
a  secret  of  his  share  in  the  attack  by  the  rioters  on 
the  engine-house.  Among  the  pitmen  his  popular- 
ity was  unbounded.  Of  an  evening  he  would  some- 
times come  down  to  the  club-room  and  chat  as 
unrestrainedly  and  intimately  as  of  old  with  the 
friends  of  his  boyhood,  and  he  never  lost  an  oppor- 
tunity of  pushing  their  fortunes. 

Once  a  week  he  spent  the  evening  with  Bit 
Haden  and  his  wife,  who  always  came  up  and 
passed  Sunday  with  him  when  he  was  at  home.  At 
this  time  all  ceremony  was  dispensed  with,  the 
servants  were  sent  out  of  the  room,  and  when  the 
pitman  and  his  wife  became  accustomed  to  theii 


j  12  &ACIMG  DkATH. 

surroundings  they  were  far  more  at  their  ease  than 
they  had  at  first  thought  possible. 

On  the  evenings  when  he  went  down  to  his 
mother  he  always  dropped  in  for  an  hour's  talk 
with  his  friend  Nelly.  There  was  no  shadow  of 
change  in  their  relations.  Nelly  was  his  friend 
firm  and  fast,  to  whom  he  told  all  his  thoughts  and 
plans.  Harry  was  assistant  master  in  a  school  at 
Birmingham,  and  was,  as  he  told  Jack,  still  waiting 
patiently. 

Jack  was  now  often  over  at  Birmingham,  and  one 
night  he  said  to  Nelly: 

"  Nelly,  I  promised  you  long  ago  that  I  would 
tell  you  if  I  ever  fell  in  love." 

"  And  you  have  come  to  tell  me  now  ? "  she 
asked  quietly. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "  if  it  can  be  called  falling  in 
love ;  for  it  has  been  so  gradual  that  I  don't  know 
how  it  began.  Perhaps  three  years  ago,  when  she 
refused  another  man.  I  was  glad  of  it,  and  of 
course  asked  myself  why  I  was  glad.  There  came 
no  answer  but  one — I  wanted  her  myself." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  Alice  Merton  ?  "  Nelly  said  as 
quietly  as  before. 

"  Of  course,"  Jack  said ;  "  it  could  be  no  one 
else.  I  suppose  I  like  her  because  she  is  the  re- 
verse of  myself.  She  is  gentle  but  lively  and  full  of 
fun,  she  is  made  to  be  the  light  of  a  hard  working 
man's  home.  I  am  not  at  all  gentle,  and  I  have 


CONCLUSION.  313 

very  little  idea  of  fun.  Alice  is  made  to  lean  on 
some  one  ;  I  suppose  I  am  meant  to  be  leaned  up- 
on. I  suppose  it  is  always  the  case  that  opposite 
natures  are  attracted  toward  one  another,  the  one 
forms  the  complement  of  the  other." 

Nelly  sat  thinking.  This  then  was  the  reason 
why  she  had  never  attracted  Jack.  Both  their 
natures  were  strong  and  firm.  Both  had  full  con- 
trol over  themselves,  although  both  of  a  passionate 
nature  ;  both  had  the  capability  of  making  great 
sacrifices,  even  of  life  if  necessary  ;  both  had  am- 
bition and  a  steady  power  of  work.  No  wonder 
Jack  had  thought  of  her  as  a  comrade  rather  than 
as  a  possible  wife  ;  while  Harry,  gentler  and  easily 
led,  patient  rather  than  firm,  leaned  upon  her  strong 
nature. 

"  I  think,  dear  Jack,"  she  said,  "  that  Miss  Mer- 
ton  is  the  very  woman  to  make  you  happy.  You 
have  known  each  other  for  twelve  years,  and  can 
make  no  mistake.  I  need  not  say  how  truly  and 
sincerely  I  wish  you  every  happiness."  There  was 
a  quiver  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke,  but  her  face  was 
as  firm  and  steadfast  as  ever ;  and  Jack  Simpson, 
as  he  walked  homeward,  did  not  dream  that  Nelly 
Hardy  was  weeping  as  if  her  heart  would  break 
over  this  final  downfall  of  her  life's  dream.  It  was 
not  that  she  had  for  the  last  seven  years  ever 
thought  that  Jack  would  ask  her  to  be  his  wife,  but 
she  would  have  been  content  to  go  on  to  the  end  of 


314  FA  CING  DEA  TH. 

her  life  as  his  first  and  dearest  friend.  Then  she 
said  at  last,  "  That's  done  with.  Jack  and  I  will 
always  be  great  friends,  but  not  as  we  have  been. 
Perhaps  it  is  as  well.  Better  now  than  ten  years  on." 

Then  her  thoughts  went  to  Harry,  to  whom,  in- 
deed, during  the  last  few  years  they  had  gone 
oftener  than  she  would  have  admitted  to  herself. 
"  He  is  very  faithful  and  kind  and  good,  and  I  sup- 
pose one  of  these  days  I  shall  have  to  give  in.  He 
will  not  expect  much,  but  he  deserves  all  I  could 
give  him." 

In  after  years,  however,  Nelly  Shepherd  learned 
that  she  could  give  her  husband  very  true  and  ear- 
nest love ;  and  the  headmaster  and  mistress  of  the 
largest  school  at  Wolverhampton  are  regarded  by 
all  who  know  them,  and  by  none  less  than  by  Jack 
Simpson  and  his  wife,  as  a  perfectly  happy  couple. 

It  is  ten  years  since  Jack  married  Alice  Merton, 
who  had  loved  him  for  years  before  he  asked  her 
to  be  his  wife.  Jack  is  now  part  proprietor  of  the 
Vaughan  pit,  and  is  still  its  real  manager,  although 
he  has  a  nominal  manager  under  him.  He  cannot, 
however,  be  always  on  the  spot,  as  he  lives  near 
Birmingham,  and  is  one  of  the  greatest  authorities 
on  mining,  and  the  first  consulting  engineer,  in  the 
Black  Country.  At  Mr.  Brook's  death  he  will  be 
sole  proprietor  of  the  Vaughan,  that  gentleman  hav- 
ing at  Jack's  marriage  settled  its  reversion  upon  hhj 
wife. 


CONCLUSION.  315 

Dinner  is  over,  and  he  is  sitting  in  the  garden, 
surrounded  by  those  he  most  cares  for  in  the  world. 
It  is  the  first  of  June,  a  day  upon  which  a  small 
party  always  assembles  at  his  house.  By  his  side 
is  his  wife,  and  next  to  her  are  Harry  Shepherd  and 
Nelly.  Between  the  ladies  a  warm  friendship  has 
sprung  up  of  late  years,  while  that  between  the 
three  friends  has  never  diminished  in  the  slightest. 
On  Jack's  other  hand  sits  an  artist,  bearing  one  of 
the  most  honored  names  in  England,  whose  health 
Jack  always  proposes  at  this  dinner  as  "  the  founder 
of  his  fortune."  Next  to  the  artist  sits  Mr.  Brook, 
and  beyond  him  Mrs.  Simpson's  father,  a  perma- 
nent resident  in  the  house  now,  but  some  years  back 
a  professor  of  mathematics  in  Birmingham.  Play- 
ing in  the  garden  are  six  children,  two  of  whom  call 
the  young  Simpsons  cousins,  although  there  is  no 
blood  relationship  between  them ;  and  walking 
with  them  are  an  old  couple,  who  live  in  the  pretty 
cottage  just  opposite  to  the  entrance  of  the  grounds, 
and  whom  Jack  Simpson  still  affectionately  calls 
"  dad  "  and  "  mother." 


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